


No Day But Today

by halfwit



Series: In Sickness and In Health [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Bobby, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Angst, Castiel and Dean in Love, Cuddles, Cute Castiel, Cute Dean, Depressed Dean, Ellen is Scary, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Holding Hands, Homophobic John, Homophobic Language, Hospitals, Hurt Dean Winchester, I'm Sorry, It will get worse before it gets better, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Minor Violence, Miscommunication, Nightmares, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sad Dean Winchester, Sick Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, True Love, We all need hugs, What Have I Done, Who brought the Kleenex?, Worried Castiel, Worried Sam, mentioned self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-02-27 08:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 77,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2686778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwit/pseuds/halfwit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is a 17-year-old high school student trying to make do. With his father checked out after his mother's death, Dean takes on the responsibility of raising his younger brother. However, when Dean falls ill, his younger brother tries to help out, and Dean may find love in an unexpected place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Candle in the Wind

The shrill beeping of the alarm clock was the last thing Dean Winchester wanted to hear. He had been late getting to bed the previous evening, as he was trying to catch up on a science project that would be a huge part of his grade. He had gotten behind in his class work the past few weeks because he was trying to get all the extra shifts he could at the bookstore and at his Uncle Bobby's garage. He wanted to save some extra money with Christmas coming so he could get Sammy the laptop he had his eye on. Plus, Dean knew his father was behind on the bills. Though Dean might try to make excuses, John Winchester hadn't really been a parent and provider for his sons in quite some time. Dean worked as hard as possible to take care of his father and brother, but sometimes the pressure threatened to weigh him down. Today was one of those days.

Fumbling by the side of his bed, he found the right button to stop the alarm from screeching in his ear. The noise was not helping the pounding headache that had been plaguing the teen for the past several days. Pushing away the aches and fatigue he felt, Dean got up and went into the bathroom to get his morning shower. The harsh fluorescent lights above the sink flickered to life and he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Damn, he looked like crap! His normally bright green eyes looked dull and glassy, and he had dark circles ringing his eyes that almost looked like he had gone ten rounds in a fight and came out the loser. He looked pale, which caused the freckles on his face to stand out in stark contrast to the rest of his skin. He pushed those thoughts out of his head, they weren't important right now. What was important was getting himself ready for school so he could get Sammy ready. Things would be so much easier for the elder Winchester next year when Sammy would be at the high school with him. For now, he had to get as much ready for his kid brother as possible and still make it to school before the tardy bell.

After a quick shower, Dean hurried through the rest of his morning, throwing on a light gray Henley and worn jeans before hurrying down the hall, banging on his 14-year-old brother's room on the way to start breakfast.

"Rise and shine, Sammy," Dean called out as obnoxiously as possible. He waited until he heard the stirrings of his moose-like sibling before continuing to the kitchen.

Dean already was exhausted and the day was just beginning. Working as quickly as possible, he made a sandwich and threw some vegetables and chips together for his brother's lunch. He skipped making his own, the sight of the peanut butter and jelly was making his stomach curl over and gurgle in displeasure. He always could steal some of his best friend, Castiel's, lunch if he got hungry. Lunch completed, the older brother put some waffles in the toaster so they would be ready for when Sam finished.

Just a few minutes later, Dean felt a small grin tug at the corner of his mouth when he heard his brother barreling down the stairs.

"Woah there, little brother," Dean said with a soft chuckle. "Where's the stampede this morning?"

"Bite me, Jerk," Sam said with exasperated fondness.

"Naw, I think you might like it too much, Bitch," Dean parried back with equal good humor.

Sam shot his brother the ultimate of his bitch faces, and then paused and really looked at his brother. When had Dean lost so much weight? Sure, he always had been lean, but this was more than that; he was looking gaunt and sickly, two things Sam never associated with his older brother.

"You feeling okay, De?" Sam asked, slipping into the nickname he had given to his brother when they were much younger.

"Yeah, Sammy," Dean replied, quickly. "Just a little tired is all. You going to be okay getting to school?"

Sam rolled his eyes at his overprotective sibling. "Yes, Mom," he snarked, "I'll be fine. I will see you after school."

Dean half heartedly flipped his brother off for the attitude, and hurried out the door. He had just enough time to make it before the tardy bell, and he couldn't afford the detention that would await him if he was late one more time.

As Sam watched his brother scurry out the door, he sighed. Dean took on too much responsibility. He had to, in a way, if he was going to keep their little family together. Not for the first time, did Sam wish their father was more stable. John never really got over the murder of his beloved wife, and his sons served as painful reminders of what was and what never will be. But, Sam knew Dean was burning the candle at both ends and worrying so much about taking care of everyone else, he forgot to look after himself.

Sighing, Sam took out his phone. Dean would hate that his little brother was worrying about him. Dean saw worrying about Sam as a one-way street and didn't want Sam to do the same for him. Tough. His older brother had to learn he could count on the ones he loved to look out for him as much as he looked out for them. Decision made, Sam scrolled through the contacts on his phone until he found the one he wanted, Castiel Novak, Dean's best friend and almost second brother to Sam.

》Heya, Cas, can you do me a favor?

Sam wasn't sure if he would get a quick response or not since the older teen was most likely already in class. However, a few seconds later, Sam's phone tweeted a new message incoming.

《 Of course, what do you need?

》 Can you keep an eye on Dean for me? He doesn't look too well this morning and I think the stubborn idiot is making himself sick.

《 I will do my best, but you know how he hates for others to worry about him. 》 Too bad, this time we are looking after him.

《 Understood, I better go. Class is starting soon and I have to find your brother.

》 Thanks, Cas.

Dean taken care of for the moment, Sam went to finish getting ready for school. Maybe it would be a good day after all.


	2. I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally makes it to school, and Cas gets to see what Sam is concerned about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to My Chemical Romance for the chapter title. Not betaed, all mistakes are my own.

The drive to school took longer than Dean would have liked. It seemed like every light was programmed to turn red just as he reached it; and, being Dean, he was not willing to risk his Baby in an accident, even to avoid another hellish detention with Mr. Crowley. 

Despite all the delays, Dean found himself flying into his homeroom right as the bell rang. The teacher glared at him, somewhat annoyed with his dramatic entrance, but didn't comment. Dean couldn't even muster a cocky grin in rejoinder. He just felt wiped. The nausea he felt earlier was gone (thank God), but he felt the aches in his joints more keenly, and he felt the fine sheen of sweat that had broken out on his brow from his race to class. Dean may not have been a jock, but he was in good shape, and there is no way that mad dash should have winded him so much.

"Awesome," he said sarcastically under his breath, "just the right time to get the flu."

There was no way he had the time to be sick. His dad was supposed to be gone for at least another week on the over-the-road trucking gig he supposedly picked up, which meant Dean needed to pick up as many hours as possible to pay the bills and make sure Sammy had enough to eat. 

Dean was so lost in his thoughts, he hadn't heard the bell ring to signal the end of the period. What was the matter with him? He wasn't usually this spacey.

"Get it together, Winchester," he muttered to himself as he collected his books.

Leaving the classroom, Dean saw a familiar mass of unruly dark hair waiting for him. Seeing his best friend made Dean smile despite himself. He knew he always could lean on Cas if he needed to...the problem was Dean was just too stubborn to admit when he needed help.

"Hey Cas," Dean said with a grin, "whatchya doing here? I thought you had Lit this period?"

"Hello Dean," was his friend's customary response. "I do, but I wanted to check on you."

Dean tilted his head slightly in confusion - a habit picked up after so many years of friendship with Cas. No way his overachieving best friend was going to risk being late for class, he usually was the first one to each period.

"Why did you want to check on..." Dean trailed off as the pieces fell in place. "Sam. Sam butted his annoying nose into this, didn't he."

"He was worried about you," the other teen confirmed as they started walking. "And after seeing you, I completely understand his concerns. You look awful."

Dean cringed slightly. Even after 12 years of friendship, he forgot how blunt Cas could be, especially when it was something he didn't want to hear. If he was honest with himself, Dean knew he looked terrible and couldn't blame his brother and best friend for being concerned. If either of them showed up looking like he did, he would be man - handling them into Baby and going to the nearest doctor or emergency room. But, this was about Dean, and he tended to put his own needs at the bottom of the priority ladder.

"I'm fine, Cas," Dean said, throwing in an exasperated eye roll for good measure.

Cas looked at his friend in concern. Dean was most assuredly not okay, but years of practice with the stubborn Winchester had taught him that he had to be sneaky and patient to get to the truth. So, even though he didn't believe his friend, Cas nodded and walked toward his class, promising to meet up with Dean at lunch.

The morning passed slowly for Dean. All he wanted was to take some aspirin for his aches and lay down. Of course, this would be the day Ms. Mosley would give them a pop quiz. Awesome. By the time lunch rolled around, Dean didn't know how he was going to make it to the end of the day. What was worse, he knew Cas was going to see right through him and go into ultra mother hen mode. Maybe he could just skip lunch? Maybe he could go to the library and close his eyes for a few minutes, it's not like he was going to eat anything anyhow, Plus, if he hid in the library, he would miss Cas' inquisition: For a nerdy dude in a battered trench coat, he could be downright scary at times.

Decision made to hide, Dean started off toward the library. As he was walking, the ache in his stomach turned more pressing and sharp. He stopped walking and grabbed on to the wall nearest him. This was new. He just had to make it to the library, then he could rest.

As he gathered his strength to move from his perch, Dean saw the concerned visage of his best friend come into sight. He saw Cas' blue-eyes narrow in concern and anger? Why would Cas be angry? Was he okay? Concerned for his friend, Dean pushed himself away from the wall quickly. ..too quickly. A sea of black dots swam before his eyes, the pain in his stomach intensified until he felt like he had metal hooks piercing through his body and suspending him from the sky. The hallway was spinning, he couldn't get his bearings. He thought he saw Cas running toward him, and right before he lost consciousness he felt the bone jarring thud of hitting the school's linoleum floor. He thought he heard Cas scream his name, but he couldn't be sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has come along on this journey so far. I had this idea as part of the first chapter originally, but thought it was too unwieldy, so I broke it into two.
> 
> Questions, comments, likes, dislikes? I'd love to hear from you.


	3. When the Levee Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has been taken to the hospital and Castiel tries to keep calm.

Castiel didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt like he was a caged animal in the zoo. After Dean’s collapse at school, Castiel insisted on riding in the ambulance with his best friend. He may have lead the paramedics to believe he was Dean’s boyfriend. Nevertheless, Castiel was not leaving his friend’s side. Seeing Dean go down in the hall like he did was something that Castiel would have nightmares about for a long time to come, and there was no way he was leaving his best friend’s side.

Standing up for the hundredth time since coming to the hospital, Castiel started to pace the small waiting room. As it was around three in the afternoon, the little family area was not that crowded. Castiel actually would have preferred there to be more people, at least that way he could distract himself from his thoughts. He walked over to the small coffee machine and poured a small cup of the black sludge they were passing as coffee, only to sit the cup down and abandon it as he started to chew his already non-existent fingernails. What was taking so long? Why couldn’t someone come to tell him what was going on? Why didn’t he notice that Dean had been getting sick? Dean always took such good care of everyone else, Castiel just took for granted that his friend was a stubborn ass who put everyone’s needs before his own. Well that was going to change. Cas swore to himself that he was going to make sure that someone was looking out for Dean, and it might as well be him.

Glancing at the small clock, Castiel swore the numbers were mocking him. Could it only have been three hours since he first came in with Dean? It felt like he had been there for days. He always considered himself to be an infinitely patient person; after all, his favorite past time was to sit and watch the bees on the warm summer days (something that Dean would make good-naturedly make fun of him for). In this instance, however, patience was not a virtue. The dark-haired teen couldn’t seem to find a way to occupy himself. He would sit for a few minutes, only to have his legs start shaking rapidly in his anxiousness. To combat that, he would stand up and start pacing the waiting room, only to annoy himself and try to sit down again. He would try to sit and watch something on the small television the hospital had, but daytime television truly was awful, and if he had to watch one more paternity test on “Maury” he thought he would lose all faith in humanity. But, he wanted something to keep himself occupied. He couldn’t read, he tried that first, but after the twentieth time reading the same sentence, he knew that wasn’t going to work. When he had too much time to think, he could just remember Dean collapsing and the sick terror that filled his stomach when he watched.

 

***************

_Castiel knew that Dean was avoiding him. After he saw Dean following homeroom, Cas knew that Sam’s concerns were genuine and that something truly was wrong with his friend. However, years of studying Dean Winchester also taught Cas that if the other teen wanted to hide something, it was going to take some very convenient coaxing and maybe some pie-bribery to get him to say what was going on. Cas also was smart enough to know that Dean was going to try to dodge him at lunch, which is how lunchtime found Castiel stalking the halls looking for his friend. He knew that Dean’s most likely hiding spot was going to be the Library, so he headed in that direction first._

_When he saw Dean turning down the hall to the Library, Castiel smiled to himself: Did he know his friend, or did he know his friend? Castiel increased his pace to try to head off the older Winchester when Dean suddenly turned to head back towards Cas. At that moment, Castiel could see the color drain from Dean’s face, he had heard about people turning as white as a sheet, but always thought that was a clever turn of phrase, until he watched it happen to Dean. As the color drained from Dean’s face, Castiel tried to move other students out of the way, but he wasn’t fast enough. Just before he reached Dean, the other teen’s eyes rolled up into his head and Dean collapsed to the floor almost like someone had cut the string that was holding him upright and he just crumpled, his head hitting the floor with a jarring thud._

_Castiel dropped to his knees in front of Dean and tried to see if the other boy still was breathing. Once convinced that he had a pulse, Castiel screamed for someone to get help. Shaken by seeing his vibrant friend so still, Castiel started to gently card his fingers through Dean’s hair – he knew Dean probably would shudder at the intimacy of the moment, but Castiel wanted that connection. He needed it more so than Dean, who probably wasn’t even aware of what happened. Before too long, the principal and the school nurse were coming to where Castiel was curled protectively around his friend. The principal, Mr. Douglas, assured the teenager that an ambulance was on its way and they were trying to get in touch with Dean’s father as they spoke._

_“Good luck with that,” Castiel thought bitterly. In all the years he had been friends with Dean, he could count on one hand the number of times John Winchester was around when one of his boys needed something._

_Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Castiel replied, “Call Bobby Singer; he is Dean’s uncle.”_

_Mr. Douglas nodded and left the hall, while the nurse worked to assess the situation until the paramedics arrived. The nurse had to work around Castiel, who refused to relinquish his position by his friend’s side. If that was a bother to the nurse, she never said a word, working around the other teen as needed to assure herself that Dean was stable until the paramedics arrived._

_What happened after that, Castiel really couldn’t remember. He knew he told the paramedics what happened and that he wasn’t leaving his boyfriend’s side, but he didn’t remember leaving the hall. He didn’t remember the ride to the hospital. He didn’t remember much until his saw Bobby Singer walking into the emergency room, and for the first time since Dean collapsed Castiel felt he could let himself go. Cas started to shake as all his fear for his friend came to a head. For the first several minutes, he couldn’t even tell Bobby what had happened, he just shook and felt tears start to drip down his cheeks. Gruff as he appeared, Bobby loved the Winchester boys as though they were his own; and, he just waited until Cas could tell him exactly what happened._

_Once Cas related the story, they waited until an emergency room attendant ushered them in to the family waiting area, where they were told to wait for a doctor to come and apprise them of Dean’s condition. Bobby and Cas sat side by side for the first two hours, until Bobby left to pick Sam up from school and let him know what was going on. They hadn’t wanted to get Sam earlier, especially since they really didn’t have any news, but both men decided they didn’t want Sam to get home and not know what was going on with his brother. Cas hadn’t realized how much Bobby’s presence had comforted him until the older man left._

**********************

As Castiel waited for Bobby and Sam, he couldn’t help wondering what was wrong with Dean? Was it the flu? Food poisoning? Was it just that Dean had too much responsibility? Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, Cas found himself furious with John Winchester. He hated how the man abandoned his children. It always broke Cas’ heart to see the burdens that Dean carried, how it weighted his shoulders down and made his friend look so much older than his seventeen years. Dean did a great job shouldering the responsibility; he basically raised Sam by himself, with some help from Bobby and his wife, Ellen. Dean was too proud to accept too much help, so all that Sam accomplished was basically due to Dean. Dean who went to parent-teacher conferences; Dean who acted as his brother’s legal guardian, even though he wasn’t yet an emancipated adult himself. Dean who paid the bills and made the meals. It was no wonder that Dean had worked himself into this state, and now that Dean needed a father, John was again nowhere to be found. Castiel had himself so upset, at this point, he thought if John Winchester would have walked into the hospital at that point, the teen probably would have hauled off and hit the older man.

At that moment, however, Bobby and Sam came barreling into the small waiting room. Sam looked around wild-eyed almost like he was expecting to see a reaper ready to take his brother off. Castiel had never seen the other boy look as young as he did in that moment. For as much as Dean and Sam bickered like normal siblings, Dean was Sam’s world and if that was taken away, Castiel didn’t know what Sam would do.

“Where is he? What’s going on? Has the doctor been in? Has Dad shown up? Do they have him stable?” the questions poured out of Sam like verbal diarrhea.

“One question at a time, Sam,” Bobby chided.

Just as Castiel was preparing to respond to Sam’s questions, the door to the waiting room opened again, revealing a petite doctor in pale green scrubs.

“Family of Dean Winchester?” she queried. The three men nodded. “I think you should come to my office. We have a lot to discuss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently having four hours in a car on the way home from vacation gives me a lot of time to think and write - so, I decided to update a little early. My husband was not entirely happy because I made him read for me before I would watch tonight's "The Walking Dead." I am curious to know what you think. I love to hear from you! Thanks so much for reading.


	4. 3 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is home from the hospital and trying to get caught up with his classwork. He knows he still isn't well, but he is trying to keep that from everyone. Silly Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is completely unbeated. My husband has been my occasional proofreader, but I think he is tired of hearing all about Cas and Dean, so I'm on my own for this one. All mistakes are my own.

_“Sonofabitch!”_

Castiel heard as he walked into Dean’s bedroom, only to narrowly miss getting beaned in the head by a flying Physics book.

“What did that book ever do to you?” Cas snarked.

“Sorry, dude,” Dean said somewhat sheepishly. “I just haven’t been able to get caught back up, and Mr. Adler said the test next week is going to be killer. I have to keep my grade up if I am even going to have a shot at MIT.”

Dean flopped back onto his bed. A week and a half after his collapse at school, and the teenager still didn’t feel a hundred percent. The doctor explained to Cas, Bobby, and Sam that Dean had been severely dehydrated and because of that his electrolytes were screwed up, which caused him to get lightheaded, hence his collapse. Also, the doctor thought because he wasn’t getting enough rest, his immune system had been weakened, leaving him susceptible to the flu. Dr. Douglas assured the three men that with rest and plenty of fluids it wouldn’t be long before Dean was back up on his feet again.

Because the teenager hated hospitals, he convinced the doctor to spring him as soon as possible, promising to take it easy. Of course, he had no intention of actually keeping that promise, but Bobby and Ellen were equally determined he would. Bobby refused to give him shifts at the garage, and Ellen kept dropping off casseroles and pasta dishes so he and Sammy had homemade food that Dean didn’t have to prepare. Bobby and Ellen also made sure he took a few extra days off school, just to be safe. By the end of the third day off, Dean wasn’t feeling much better, but he definitely was coming down with a case of cabin fever. He had never been cooped up in one place for so long, and he definitely didn’t like it. He was so happy when he got back to school, he might have kissed his locker – but that was between him and the metal of his locker to know for sure.

However, once the euphoria of being out of the house passed, Dean realized he had a bigger problem that being stir crazy – he had piles of makeup work to complete. Since the teen dreamed of going to MIT to their engineering program, he loaded up his junior year credits with Advanced Placement classes, including Physics and Calculus. Usually these classes were his favorites and he caught on easily; but, he just didn’t feel like he was in his groove after being off. He still was tired all the time and his appetite still hadn’t really returned.

Dean knew he still was sick, but he didn’t want anyone fussing over him. He felt it was his responsibility to look after Sammy. He would rather take care of people than have someone take care of him; so, if he was a little less than truthful about how he was feeling, that was his own business. For the most part, he thought he was successful in hiding how he was feeling. His appetite was almost non-existent – a fact that would scare the bejeezus out of his family if they knew – but, he learned to move food around on his plate to make it look like he was eating more than he was. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to eat, or that he was trying to lose weight, he just wasn’t that hungry. He would take a few bites of pasta, or eat a half slice of pizza and get full. It was almost like his stomach had shrunk overnight. Plus, when he actually did manage more than a few bites of something, his stomach would cramp up on him, or else he would see a little swell in his tummy. The first couple times it happened, he laughed when he caught sight of himself in the mirror, the way his stomach bloated up, he almost looked pregnant. His amusement quickly faded as the cramping set in. The pressure would get so intense, he would find himself doubling over as the pain radiated out from his stomach and migrated into his arms. He chalked a lot of this up to regular heartburn, and started to pop antacids like they were going out of style.

After a few days, he didn’t worry so much about Bobby or Ellen or Sammy catching on to how he was feeling. He was able to assure them he was feeling better, and they believed him. The person he had a harder time convincing was Cas: The darker haired teen knew Dean too well, and had learned from years of losing at Monopoly and Go Fish to pick up on Dean’s tells. To fool Castiel, Dean had to up his game to an absurd degree, and it was absolutely exhausting. For the most part, he tried to make excuses so Cas couldn’t observe his behavior. They still got together, but Dean would always be sure to leave before dinner. Dean made sure he had tutoring sessions during lunch, so Cas couldn’t worry about how little he was eating. While he hated avoiding Cas, Dean felt it was necessary to have certain lies of omission, if nothing else. He was going to be fine, he just needed to get rid of this flu.

He was able to keep up the subterfuge with Cas for almost a week, then the other teen started to get suspicious and Dean cracked, leading them back to a normal routine. That is how Castiel ended up at the Winchester household on this night, almost to get slaughtered by Dean’s wayward textbook. The two had a Calculus test the next day, so Cas was coming over to help Dean get caught up with what he had missed and the two could study. They had done this so many times over the years, it was almost second nature. They would have some meat lovers pizza, some Pepsi, and study until they passed out on Dean’s bed. Then, they would get up and go to school and be awesomely prepared for the test of the day.

“Food’s downstairs,” Cas said. “I offered Sam a slice, but he said he was having dinner with a friend.”

“Yeah,” Dean responded, getting up off his bed and walking toward the door. “He is going over to his buddy, Brady’s house. They are working on some super secret science project for the Fair at the end of the month. Sam said it is going to be the coolest science project ever and they are going to have ballads sung about how awesome Sammy and Brady are.”

Cas smiled fondly at his friend. Not for the first time, Cas realized the pride evident in Dean’s voice was more like a father would have for his son then one sibling toward another. However, the young Novak also realized if he would call Dean’s attention to this, the elder Winchester would just laugh it off. Even though John wasn’t around, Dean still respected his father and was uncomfortable if anyone – even his best friend – hinted that Dean was more Sammy’s dad than John was.

“Alright, let’s get some pizza and then get ready to pass this test.”

The two boys grabbed paper plates and some pizza and sat down to start talking about the next day’s test. Dean took a big bite of the gooey pizza and immediately felt full. Damn it! How was he going to hide this from Cas? Whenever the two had pizza, Dean could easily polish off three or four slices; today, he was going to be lucky to eat one. Maybe Cas wouldn’t realize how little Dean was eating if they could just start talking about Cas’ other favorite subject.

“So, Dude,” Dean said casually, “are we still on for the last Hobbit movie in December?”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas said, grabbing his second slice of pizza. “We’ve seen all the others together, I thought it was a given we would see this one, too.”

“Cool.”

“Are you alright, Dean,” Cas asked, a frown inching its way across his face and between his eyebrows. “You haven’t eaten very much. Did you take all the medicine the doctor prescribed for you?”

“Yes, _Mom_ ,” Dean jibed back to his friend. “I took all the medicine. I just had a huge lunch. Guess I’m not as hungry tonight as I thought.”

Castiel looked like he wanted to say more on the subject, but Dean immediately took another huge bite of the pizza, so Cas shut his mouth. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Dean still was hiding something – stubborn ass – but, he knew the surest way to get Dean to keep a secret was to pressure Dean to talk. Cas chewed his pizza thoughtfully, and figured he would wait for the best time to ask Dean how he was feeling – until then, they had a test to study for.

******************

He wasn’t sure what woke him up, but awareness slowly came back to Cas. He remembered after dinner, he and Dean went back to Dean’s bedroom and started their preparations for the test. Cas still was worried that Dean wasn’t feeling well; after all, in the years he had known Dean Winchester, Castiel never saw him eat only one slice of pizza. It actually looked to Cas like Dean forced himself to eat the full slice of pizza for Cas’ benefit. After dinner, the two joked and worked until after midnight, before collapsing onto Dean’s bed and falling asleep. So why was it at…argh!...3 a.m. Cas was awakened out of a sound sleep. He needed a good six hours to be refreshed enough for this exam.

Cas laid back down, trying to force himself to go back to sleep, when he heard something that made his blood run cold and come to full consciousness. The sound was coming from the bathroom, and it must have been the noise that woke him originally. As Cas listened, he could hear the sounds of Dean retching into the toilet. He knew the other boy must be trying to muffle the sounds from the bathroom, but it still was loud enough that Cas could hear through the door. Hoisting himself off Dean’s memory foam mattress, Cas went to the bathroom door and went to knock. From the other side of the door, he could hear Dean’s misery, and more heartbreakingly, he could hear what sounded like muffled sobs and moans of pain.

“Dean? Dean? Are you okay?” Cas asked worriedly through the door.

“Hmumpht,” was the unintelligible reply from Dean.

“I’m gonna come in now, Dean, I hope to God you have pants on,” Cas never will live down the time he thought Dean was being attacked and burst in on the other boy without any pants on, having an, ahem, private moment. It was months before Cas would enter Dean’s room with his eyes open. He would walk in with his eyes tightly shut until Dean told him it was all clear.

“Ha-pa-on,” was the broken reply, which Cas took to mean he was good to come in.

As soon as Cas entered the smallish en suite bathroom, he thought he was going to be ill. There was Dean, sweat pouring down his flushed cheeks, freckles standing out in stark relief like pebbles. Dean’s eyes were glassy, but the whites were streaked red from the exertion of how many times he must have thrown up. Dean’s short sandy brown hair was plastered to his forehead and he looked absolutely miserable.

“Dean,” Cas chided, softly, “why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

“Wasn’t. This. Bad. Earlier,” the other boy managed to gasp out.

Cas sat down next to his friend and started rubbing gentle circles onto his back to try to provide some small comfort to his suffering. He was at a loss as to what to do. For the millionth time since Dean collapsed at school, Castiel wished his friend would stop carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and let someone else help. Cas wanted to be able to take care of Dean, the way that his friend always was there to take care of him.

“Unnh,” Dean moaned wretchedly, “It hurts, Cas. Feels like something is trying to rip my insides out through my belly button.”

“Do you want me to call anyone?” Cas asked, keeping his voice as calm as possible, even though he was starting to panic. Dean was in more pain than Cas had ever seen him. Dean was the strongest person he knew, and usually he had an incredibly high tolerance for pain. If Dean was letting on that he was feeling this badly, the pain had to be excruciating, and that terrified Castiel more than he could say.

“Oh God,” Dean gasped, right before he started to throw up into the porcelain bowl again. Cas didn’t know how he could have that much to throw up considering he only had one slice of pizza for dinner.

When Dean sat back up after the heaving subsided, he started to apologize for making his friend witness him tossing his cookies. Dean never got the chance when he saw the look on Cas’ face.

“Do I still have something on my face?” Dean half joked.

“Oh my God, Dean,” Cas gasped, pulling his friend to his feet and heading toward the door as though a hellhound was chasing after them. “We are going to the hospital right now.”

“What the hell, Dude?” Dean asked.

Cas just hurried them to the door, and manhandled Dean into the Novak’s Prius.

“You’re throwing up blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK - so when I started writing this, I originally was thinking I probably would only be able to update it once a week. However, it seems as though Dean and Cas have other plans for me, and they keep prodding me to write their story faster. So, here's the plan, I'm going to write as much as I can, whenever they decide to fill me in on their story. My goal is to update at least once a week; however, right now it is more.
> 
> Although this is a work in progress and nothing is 100% cast in concrete at this point, I do know where we are going. I know what is wrong with Dean and I know where this most likely will take us. It is going to (hopefully) be an emotional roller coaster, but I hope you all think it is worth it. Thank you so much to everyone who has subscribed and left kudos and sent comments my way. I am so grateful to all of you, and am glad we are on this journey together.
> 
> As always, questions, concerns, love it, hate it, let me know - I'd love to hear from you.


	5. Tell Me It's Not True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas make it to the hospital. Dean finds out what is wrong with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry.

His first memories in a hospital weren’t bad. In fact, the first time he walked into a hospital room was when he first met Sammy. Dean remembered his Dad carrying him to the hospital room to see Mom and to meet his new little brother. Dean remembered feeling a sense of pride and responsibility that now he was a big brother. He had to watch out for Sammy.

Walking into the hospital room, he remembered smelling chemicals and everything seemed a little too clean. There on the bed, however, was his mother – her blonde hair was spilling down her back and almost looked like a halo around her. In her arms was a little scrap of a person, his little brother. So, yeah, his first visit to a hospital was pretty awesome.

Over the years, he just developed a paranoia of hospitals. He hadn’t really spent a lot of time in them, but it was just something that inherently made him nervous: He was doubly nervous now as he laid on the narrow hospital bed waiting for the doctor to discuss the results of his endoscopy that he had about an hour prior.

After Castiel found him puking his guts out in his bathroom, Dean found himself herded like cattle into a car and watched Cas drive like a madman to get him to the hospital. Dean would have laughed about Cas acting like a nervous husband driving his pregnant wife to deliver their child, but Dean sensed that this wasn’t the time to try joke with his friend. Cas had said something about Dean throwing up blood, but Dean really didn’t think it was true. It probably was just remnants of the pizza sauce.

Once they got to the hospital, Dean was ushered back to the emergency triage area to be examined. Cas stood sentry beside him, looking like he was afraid to leave his friend’s side. Dean tried to reassure him, but it seemed like everything he said just put the other teen more on edge. Finally, a doctor came and informed the boys that Dean was going to be taken back to a procedure area to have an endoscopy. The doctors wanted to look at his esophagus and his stomach to see – if he was throwing up blood – if that was because he had ruptured a blood vessel during his bout with the flu, or if there was anything more serious going on.

While Dean was back in the procedure area, Castiel started to make phone calls. He needed to do something to keep busy or else he was going to go crazy. He called Bobby and Ellen. He called his mother, who sent his older brother, Gabriel, to the hospital to keep him company. Now, almost two hours later, Dean was settled somewhat groggily into a hospital room, Cas was perched on the side of the bed, and Ellen was fussing nearby with the pillows hoping to make Dean as comfortable as possible.

“Were you able to get in touch with Dad,” Dean asked his Aunt, his voice scratched somewhat raw from where the tube had gone down his throat.

“No, sweetie,” Ellen said. “Your Uncle’s still trying to get in touch with him.”

“Where's Uncle Bobby?”

“He went back to the house so Sam could get some rest,” Ellen said, propping another pillow under Dean’s head. “We thought it was best if Sam try to keep up with his classes as normal, especially because he’ll probably want to be home with you as soon as you get out of here in a day or two.”

“Mmmm,” Dean mumbled, groggily. He was still trying to shake the after effects of the medication they had given him for the procedure. The doctor said they were putting him in a “twilight” sleep. Dean wanted to make a joke about them not turning him into one of those sparkle vampires from that crappy movie, but he found himself too tired. It was rare that Dean was too nervous to make a joke, but this definitely qualified as one of those instances. He worried about having the tube going down his throat. He was afraid he would choke, or worse, wouldn’t be able to breathe and would suffocate from the procedure. The doctor in charge, Dr. Roberts, assured him all was going to be well: The medication was going to keep him from getting too nervous. He remembered the doctor telling him that he would be aware of what was going on at the time, but wouldn’t remember too much after.

“I could get you to rob a bank under the influence of this stuff,” Dr. Roberts told the teen. “You would do it, and then swear you never had been near the bank.”

Now, Dean was just waiting for the news. He knew he was going to have to try to eat a little better for a while – probably that meant some of the rabbit food that Sammy always was trying to get him to eat. This also meant that he probably wasn’t going to be able to work for a little while, which meant he was going to have to take Bobby and Ellen up on their offer to stay with them until John got back into town and was able to provide something a little more long term for the boys.

Cas was sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed trying to play poker while Gabriel sat in the corner eating a Twix bar and trying to tell Dean to go fish. Dean actually was starting to relax a little when the door opened and Dr. Roberts stepped in.

“Hello Dean,” the doctor said with a small smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t feel the need to drink blood, so I guess you didn’t turn me into a vampire,” Dean couldn’t resist joking. “When can I blow this pop stand?”

“Dean, I think you are going to be in here for a few days.”

“What? Why?” this from Cas.

“C’mon, man, it’s just the flu,” this from Dean.

“My husband and I are planning to take him to our house until his father gets back from his job,” chimed in Ellen.

Dr. Roberts looked somewhat sad and shook his head, trying to answer all the comments that flurried around the room. At that small look, Dean’s heart seized with terror and he found himself reaching out blindly to grab onto Cas’ hand. That was his talisman at this point; Cas was grounding him in the moment. Whatever the doctor was going to say couldn’t be that bad.

“During the procedure, we noticed a small growth in Dean’s abdomen. We were able to take a sample to biopsy and had the radiology team analyze it. The sample is malignant. It appears to be a form of cancer known as an _adenocarcinomas_ – also known as stomach or gastric cancer.

“Typically gastric cancer is rare in someone as young as Dean. However, it is not unheard of. This type of cancer has a higher likelihood in males, and can manifest in individuals who have had previous stomach ailments or who eat a diet high in smoked foods or in lunch meats. The absence of fruits and vegetables in a diet also increases the propensity of this type of ailment.”

Dean could almost laugh to himself. Sammy had been on his case for years to eat healthier. Turns out the little shit was right. Dean’s love of greasy foods and avoidance of anything remotely healthy was a causal factor in this predicament. He still couldn’t wrap his head around this. He was 17-years-old for God’s sake, how could he have cancer.

“What do we do?” Dean heard Castiel ask from his side. Dean noticed that Cas was gripping his hand just as tightly as Dean was holding his. It was almost as though they were trying with everything they had to hold onto each other. To ground each other. In this moment, they were afraid that if they let go of this small connection that they would be lost, floating into the wind like balloons caught on a breeze.

Dean also had to smile that Cas had said what do _we_ do. He heard in his friend’s determined, yet still somewhat shaky, tone that Cas was in this for the long haul; he wasn’t going to let Dean fight these demons without him. Dean squeezed Cas’ hand lightly, knowing that Cas would fight his way into Hell itself to save Dean, and Dean would do no less for Cas.

“We will start treatment as soon as possible,” Dr. Roberts was saying, pulling Dean from his thoughts. “We will want to try to go in to remove the tumor from the abdomen and then start a course of chemotherapy and radiation as soon as possible. The sooner we start the treatment, the better the outcome.”

“What are the odds?” Gabriel blurted out, almost as though he couldn’t stop himself from asking the question that everyone else was afraid to ask.

“Usually, if the cancer is caught early enough, there is a one in five survival rate,” the doctor said, somewhat bluntly.

“If it is caught,” Ellen whispered. “What about this?”

“Until we get in there and get a good look, I really would just be speculating.”

“Where do we go from here?” Dean asked, his heart was almost beating out of his chest. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Surely this was just a pizza-induced nightmare. Yeah, that’s it; he’s still at home, he’s sleeping in his bed next to Castiel and they are going to school tomorrow to take their calculus test. Now, he just needs to wake up.

“We’ll need to get you scheduled for surgery,” the doctor said. “As you still are a minor, we will need to get your father’s consent to proceed.”

“Boy’s dad runs cross country trucking shipments,” Ellen said, bitterness lacing her tone. “My husband and I are family to this boy, just as good as if he were our own. Whatever needs to be done, we will take responsibility for it.”

“I understand your thoughts, Ma’am, but this needs to be a legal custodianship,” the doctor restated. “You need to be appointed Dean’s guardians _in loco parentis_.”

“I damn near raised that boy,” Ellen growled, protective as any mother would be over her own. “I am not going to wait for that damn fool John Winchester to get his ass out of a bar to come to see his son. You do what you need to do to treat _my_ Dean. If John has a problem with that, he can take it up with me, my husband, and my shotgun.”

Dean shivered at the rage in Ellen’s voice. He had never heard her so riled up before – even that time he and Cas broke into her bar and drank half the stockroom. They had to work for her for months to pay back all the liquor they drank.

The doctor hastily said he would check the surgeon’s schedule and see when they could get everything scheduled. After the doctor left, an awkward silence blanketed the room. No one really knew what to say – even Gabriel who always was quick with a joke or smart comment was at a loss.

“Tell me it’s not true,” Dean whispered, hating how small his voice sounded. He hated the fear he heard in his own voice. “Say it’s just pretend. Say it’s just a dream.”

“I wish it were, baby,” Ellen said, tears in her eyes. “But, I promise you this, Dean Winchester is the strongest man I know, and if anyone can kick cancer’s ass, it is you.”

“Thanks, Ellen,” Dean said with a watery chuckle.

So, it was true, he had cancer, and now he was going to have to put up the fight of his life. Cas squeezed his hand, he didn’t have words, but he tried to pour his strength and friendship into the bond between them.

“Let’s kick cancer’s ass!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, I cried writing this chapter. I would like to thank the American Cancer Society, Web MD, and the Cleveland Clinic's web sites for what I learned about stomach cancer. I would like to thank my mother for all her help describing endoscopies.
> 
> I blame the preview for the Season 10 mid-season finale for making me an emotionally compromised teenager right now.
> 
> I'm going to go hide. I love you all. Let me know what you think - don't hate me too much.


	6. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family has some time to react to Dean's diagnosis. Dean and Cas get over themselves.

**__**_Cancer_. The word itself didn’t seem that imposing, just two simple syllables. There was nothing overtly malicious in the pronunciation of the word; it didn’t have harsh consonants clashing, or foreign sounds. No, cancer was simple, direct…and absolutely terrifying to hear paired with your name.

In just a few minutes, Dean felt a shift in his world and his focus. Instead of going to class and focusing on his schoolwork to get into MIT, he was going to have to research gastric cancer and its treatments. Instead of waking Sam up each morning for school, he was going to be awakened by nurses throughout the night, taking blood, evaluating his vital signs, and writing their cryptic notes on his chart. Instead of working at Bobby’s and picking up extra shifts at the bookstore, he was going to have surgery and then either radiation or chemotherapy. He didn’t want any of this. Why was this happening to him?

He tried to keep the self-pity to a minimum. Dean Winchester was not a princess and he was not prone to chick-flick moments. He had years of putting others first, and that was what he was going to do. He had to put on his mask to hide his emotions down deep; he needed to protect the ones he loves. They came first, even in this.

After Dr. Roberts left, Ellen started rallying the troops. She went into the hall to call Bobby. She had to tell her husband the boy they thought of as their own had a disease that he only had a twenty percent chance of beating. When Ellen came back into the room, eyes watery and cheeks somewhat reddened from vigorous cold water scrubbing, Dean pretended he didn’t see the tears.

“I’m going to go home and pick up some things,” Ellen told Dean. “Is there anything in particular you want?”

“If you don’t mind, could you grab my laptop and my cell phone and charger,” Dean asked. “At least that will give me something to do.”

“Sure thing, baby,” the only mother Dean ever had known gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back later. I’m sure Bobby and Sam will want to come, too.”

Dean cringed slightly at the mention of his younger brother. He loved the kid and would dearly enjoy spending time with him, but it chaffed at Dean to have Sammy see him in this setting, and to know it wasn’t just for a cut or a cold, but for something serious.

After Ellen left, Gabriel went down to the cafeteria to get some food for himself and Castiel, and also decided to call their mother to let her know what was going on. This left Cas and Dean alone for the first time since the darker haired teen had frantically driven his friend to the hospital. Had it only been about 12 hours since then? Both teens felt as though their worlds had completely turned upside down in that short period of time.

“You don’t have to stick around, Cas,” Dean said somewhat awkwardly. “You shouldn’t have stayed as long as you did. Your Mom’s going to kick my ass for making you miss school like this.”

Castiel didn’t smile at the poor excuse at humor, he didn’t blush as he normally did at the mention of his perfect (until now) attendance record. For the first time since everyone left, Dean really looked at his friend and was startled at what he saw. Cas’ face was almost bloodless and his eyes had an odd, pinched look, as though he were desperately trying to rein in emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. “Cas?” Dean asked, sitting up to move closer to his friend. “What’s the matter? Are you okay? Do you need to lay down?”

Shaking himself as though he were in a trance, Castiel looked at Dean as though he had grown two heads.

“Am I okay? You are the one who just had the doctor tell you that you have a form of cancer, and you are asking if I am okay? You are a fucking selfish assbutt, Dean Winchester.”

Dean flinched backwards. It was so seldom Cas ever raised his voice, and he swore even less frequently than that. To hear Cas like this called to mind images of avenging angels fighting the depths of Hell to smite demons. Dean probably would have been a little turned on, if he wasn’t so confused and worried about Cas was so angry. Before he could speak, Castiel started talking again.

“You put yourself last in every situation. There has never been a time where you have valued yourself more than those you care about. I refuse to let you do the same in this situation, Dean. You deserve to be saved.”

“Cas,” Dean said, and why was he blushing around his best friend, dammit? “I’m going to be fine. The doc’s going to take care of me. You don’t have to stay with me because you feel guilty.”

“Guilt is not what I feel, Dean,” Cas said. “After all, there really is no other place I would rather be than at your side. I would prefer this not to be a hospital, but my choice to be with you would not change.”

Dean blinked up at his best friend and tilted his head in confusion: Were those meds the doctor gave him for his endoscopy still messing with his head? It almost sounded like Cas was saying that he wanted to be with Dean, like with Dean…as in couple-y together. But, that couldn’t be right, could it?

Long ago, Dean acknowledged the feelings he had for his best friend were not normal. Even when Dr. Roberts was giving him the diagnosis, he felt his fingers entwine with Cas’ and hold on for dear life. Though Dean liked to put on a macho front, he had come to terms – at least in his own head – that he was bi. It took him a little longer to acknowledge that he was in love with his best friend. His best friend who was completely straight and had never shown the slightest romantic interest in Dean.

“You are a great friend, Cas,” Dean tried again, “but, you don’t have to play Florence Nightingale for me. Plus, your mother would kick my ass if you started neglecting school.”

Castiel came closer to Dean’s bedside and leaned over his friend until they were nose-to-nose and were basically breathing each other’s air.

“I am not leaving you for anything, Dean,” Cas said, as he leaned forward the remaining few centimeters and kissed Dean briefly on the mouth.

For a split second, Dean was convinced he had died and gone to heaven, this was everything he had ever fantasized about; he and Cas together with nothing dividing them – CasDean, DeanCas – just like it always was in his mind. Too bad it took Dean getting diagnosed with cancer for them to both finally grow a pair and decide to move forward in this relationship. That thought stopped Dean like a bucket of ice water being poured over his head and his subconscious.

Of course, it all made complete sense. Castiel didn’t really want to be with Dean as a _boyfriend_ ; he felt guilty and sad because his friend was going through a medical crisis and Cas reacted without thinking of what this would look like. Why would Cas ever want to be in a relationship with him?

“Dean Winchester if you don’t stop overthinking this and wallowing in your own self-loathing I am going to smite your ass,” Castiel growled to his friend. “I can practically see the gears turning in your head.”

“You a mind reader now, Cas?” Dean tried to snark back.

“No, but I am fluent in Winchester. Years of practice.”

“OK, angel, tell me what I am thinking, right now, if you’re so smart and all-knowing.”

“Not all-knowing,” Cas said as he moved Dean over slightly. “Just have been around you long enough. You think that I only kissed you because I feel sorry for you, right?”

Dean blushed and dropped his gaze, no longer able to hold eye contact with Cas as the other boy’s bright blue eyes seemed to pierce through and look into his soul. But, Cas didn’t want him to look away. Cas placed his finger under Dean’s chin and forced his friend to look at him.

“I didn’t kiss you because of pity or sympathy or only because it is what I thought _you_ wanted. I kissed you because I wanted to. I have wanted to for years. I guess I had the courage to act because I was scared I might not have infinite opportunities to wait.”

Dean huffed a mirthless laugh. “So, you only kissed me because you were scared?”

Cas didn’t answer right away, he kept gently poking until he succeeded in scooting Dean over in the bed. He then toed off his sneakers and maneuvered himself into the narrow bed so he could lay next to Dean – quite a feat considered both of them were close to 6-feet-tall.

“I know you are going to kick cancer in the ass,” Cas almost whispered, snuggling closer to his friend – boyfriend? “But, I’m tired of playing this safe. There is no other way, no day but today.”

“Dude, did you just quote _Rent_ at me?” Dean asked, his head popping up off the pillow in confusion. Dean just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Castiel could possibly feel the same way about him.

“I might have, but I still mean it.”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said as he cuddled closer to his newly minted boyfriend. “I totally know what you mean.”

Dean smiled at the absurdity of the situation. Winchesters had the strangest luck: the downside was Dean had cancer; but, he also acquired a kickass boyfriend, who happened to be his best friend. Talk about getting the bad with the good.

As they laid there just holding each other, Dean knew things weren’t going to be all unicorns and rainbows; after all, he had stupid cancer. For this moment, he could block that out and just hold on to the solid body next to his and appreciate the warmth and life that surrounded him.

Wrapped safely in his boyfriend’s arms, Dean was able to get the first peaceful sleep he had in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know this chapter doesn't really go anywhere, but for me it serves three purposes. I hate using time elapse between chapters too much and I would rather have the aftermath of the big reveal from last chapter. The other was that I really wanted to get Dean and Cas together in some way. I was going to have them get together later, but I thought it worked better here. Third, I think it is a nice little bit of fluffiness to tide us over during the dark days ahead (dun, dun, dun).
> 
> Next chapter we will have some more action, and a discussion of Dean's surgery. Please know that 99% of what Dean is going to go through, I am totally making up, and I do not know if this would actually happen, but in my world, it is.
> 
> Also, I mentioned before that I originally started this work as a way to do an OTP challenge. That sort of fell by the wayside as the story took on a life of its own, but I am incorporating elements of the challenges - for example, last chapter we had hand-holding and in this chapter we have some cuddling :-).
> 
> Thank you all so much for your kudos and comments, I love to see them. As always, let me know what you think. Love to you all.


	7. My Father's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John Winchester (finally!) makes an appearance, and he and Bobby have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is that I was able to sit down tonight and plot the rest of the story completely out - so I know where we are going.
> 
> Also, my husband has refused to proofread any more, so this is now completely unbetaed. All mistakes are my own.

Two days had passed since Dean was diagnosed with cancer. Two days where nothing more happened. Two days where the darkness inside him had more of a chance to take hold. Two less days he had to live. Two days and no one had been able to get in touch with John Winchester.

Despite the threats and pleas that Bobby and Ellen had leveled at the hospital staff and Dr. Roberts, none of the administrators would budge. Bobby and Ellen may have considered themselves Dean and Sam’s parents, but legally they had no authority to make any decisions. They tried to get a lawyer named Balthazar to help them, but he said without evidence of abuse or him relinquishing his parental rights, the Harvelle-Singers had no legal rights over Dean and Sam. Hence, they could not authorize the hospital to proceed with the surgery.

Dean didn’t think he ever had seen Bobby and Ellen so mad; no, they weren’t just mad, they were full of an almost righteous indignation. Dean had never really had someone who loved him as much as these two did and he didn’t feel worthy of that affection. He felt like he was a burden to them. Dean also was smart enough to know not to mention this aloud to Bobby and Ellen, he liked being able to sit without blisters on his backside, thank you very much.

The days dragged for Dean. He was so weak he didn’t have the ability to get out of bed for long periods of time. His normally tanned skin was pallid and he had lost more weight. It was to the point where Cas could span Dean’s wrist in his entire hand and count each vertebrate in the other’s back.

Dr. Roberts didn’t pull punches, but he still believed they caught Dean’s condition early enough that he had a better chance of survival than if the cancer progressed. The key was they needed to act as soon as possible. That meant they had to find Dean’s father for him to give permission – or they had to wait almost three month’s until Dean’s eighteenth birthday. If they waited for Dean to reach his majority, they risked the disease getting a stronger foothold – this was one of the reasons their lawyer advised against Dean suing John for rights as an emancipated minor.

The doctor didn’t want Dean to leave the hospital – he would rather have Dean under observation to make sure he didn’t pick up any additional infections since his immune system was compromised as a result of his illness and the medicines the hospital was able to give him. Bobby and Ellen tried to stagger their work schedules so they could be at the hospital with him, but that wasn’t always possible. As much as Sammy and Castiel both wanted to be allowed to stay with him, they were convinced it was better for them to go to class. Neither boy really was too keen on this, but realized this was a battle they could not win. This meant Dean had a lot of time to be by himself and to think, and that wasn’t always a good thing.

With time to think, Dean contemplated his relationship with his father. He tried for years to do whatever John had asked of him. He worked to be Daddy’s perfect little soldier. Sam often would get frustrated that Dean followed their father’s orders too blindly. One of the few times that Dean and Sam fought, Sam had accused his brother of being a mindless puppet. Dean was hurt. He worked so hard to give Sam everything he could want, and this was what Sam thought of him? Later Sam apologized and tried to convince Dean he had just been angry. Dean pretended to accept, but those words haunted him for years. Was that why his Dad abandoned them so easily? Was Dean too pliant, or was he a disappointment?

Dean would like to say he didn’t cry himself to sleep, but that would be a lie.

Unbeknownst to Dean, after he fell asleep, his father did appear at his hospital room. The elder Winchester stared down at his son in horror and pain. He couldn’t believe this was happening. John would be the first to acknowledge that he hadn’t exactly been father of the year to Sam and Dean. He knew he had put too much on his older son’s shoulders, but something inside of John had broken when his beloved wife died. He knew it was wrong, but John couldn’t make sense of a world where a beautiful, vibrant, young mother could be taken from her family.

In his grief, John threw himself into alcohol and fled from the home he and Mary had created together. Selfish in his grief, John didn’t want the last reminders of his Mary and their life together to be taken from him, so he kept Dean and Sam with him even though he was drunk or on the road trying to find a job more often than not. In those years, John relied on Dean…too much. Dean took on the role of father to Sam when he wasn’t even old enough for kindergarten. John’s oldest also became caregiver to his dad, soothing him when memories of Mary were too vivid and when the alcohol wasn’t strong enough.

Even though John had been absent much of the time, the knowledge that his boys were alive and well was enough to give him a glimmer of hope. That was the spark he needed to keep moving each day and not ending his miserable existence. Now, to see his boy, his first born in this state – it broken something in John. He couldn’t be here. Call him a terrible father, call him a coward; he would agree, but he had to leave.

“Nice of you to finally show up, ya idjit,” came a low growl from behind John.

He turned around to find himself face to face with Bobby Singer, his once oldest friend. The two had many fights over the years over how John treated his boys. They had nearly come to blows more than once, especially when Bobby asked John outright to adopt Sam and Dean about two years after Mary’s death.

“I didn’t come here to get shit from you, Singer,” John snapped, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible, so as not to wake his son.

Bobby didn’t want to have this conversation in Dean’s earshot either. By unspoken agreement, the two men left the room and went outside where they were sure to not be overheard by the teen.

“Ya gonna to actually talk to the kid, or just stand there like a creepy stalker,” Bobby asked.

“Can it, Bobby,” John said, scrubbing his hand over his face in a gesture of exhaustion. “Drove all night to sign the papers.”

“We’ve been calling ya for days. Damn hospital won’t do nothin’ without your say. Kept tellin’ ‘em Ellen and me were as good as family. Somehow the suits didn’t get the concept that family don’t end with blood.”

“So you keep telling me,” John said, smiling reluctantly. Despite his issues with Bobby, the other man was a good sort and always had taken care of his boys. “I just finished signing all the papers to agree to Dean’s treatment. Doctor’s going to set him up for surgery as soon as possible.”

“That’s good,” Bobby said, relaxing now that his boy was going to get the care he needed. “Dean’ll be happy to see you. Boys have missed ya something fierce.”

“I can’t see him, Bobby.”

John didn’t have a chance to dodge the fist that connected with his jaw. The punch that Bobby levelled at him knocked John flat on his ass.

“What the hell? Why the hell did you punch me you moron,” John asked, picking himself up off the ground.

“You are a fool, John Winchester. I don’t know what you ever did to get boys as good as the ones you have, you sure the hell don’t deserve them.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me, Singer,” John said, working himself into a tirade of his own. “Those are my boys…mine and Mary’s. I love them more than anything.”

“Then act like it you damn fool!” Bobby shouted, pushing himself into John’s personal space. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have those boys? They love you. Dean, he acts like you hung the frikkin’ moon. He would do anything for ya, and this is how you repay that love? By abandoning him?”

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel,” John yelled back, shoving his hands against Bobby’s chest to get some space between them. “You don’t know what it’s like to be a father.”

“Neither do you,” Bobby spat, more venom in his voice than John had ever heard.

“You don’t understand, Bobby,” John said, the fight draining out of him as though someone had cut a cord that was holding him up. “I can’t watch him go through this. He’s breaking my heart.”

Bobby felt the anger rise inside of him – how dare John Winchester be this selfish at a time like this. How dare he think about his heart – what about Dean? The boy needed his family more than anything, and now one of his only remaining blood relatives was going to dump him because it was breaking _his_ heart.

“Well boo-fuckin’-hoo,” Bobby retorted. “I’m sorry your feelings are hurt, Princess.”

“Bobby….”

“No, you don’t get to ‘Bobby’ me. That is your boy in there. Your blood. Yeah, it’s heart breaking to see him in there, good Lord knows it breaks my heart to see him like this. But, that’s what kids do. That’s their job, their supposed to fuckin’ break your heart; and, you’re supposed to be there for them no matter what.”

“I can’t do it, Bobby,” John said, the first tears starting down his face. “I lost Mary and I almost didn’t survive it. I can’t lose him, too. I can’t watch him go through this.”

“Then go,” a new voice joined the fray.

Both men spun around to see the intimidating form of Ellen Harvelle-Singer appear in the fray. She may not be the tallest woman on the planet, but her attitude was the size of the Empire State Building, and she could make any man cower in fear, that’s how she kept Bobby in line for all these years.

“If this is how you are going to act, then get the hell out of here and don’t come back,” she spat. “Dean needs love and support. He needs to know that he is worth something, because dammit he is worth everything to Bobby and me. Couldn’t be worth more if he was our own.”

“What do you want me to do?” John asked.

“Sign the papers. Let him have the surgery,” she said.

“Already done.”

“Then, sign over the rights to Sam and Dean, as you should have years ago when Bobby and I first asked. We will adopt the boys, if they’ll have us. At least let us make the decisions for Dean’s medical treatments.”

John paused. Did he really want to do this? It seemed so final, signing over the rights to his children. He loved his boys, but he couldn’t be there for this. Just looking at Dean so still and pale in his hospital bed made his heart hurt more than he could handle. He knew the boys would probably hate him forever, but he had to make a decision. It was a decision he should’ve made years ago, but he wasn’t ready to let go.

He wasn’t a father. If Mary had lived maybe things would’ve been different. He remembered vaguely the father he had been to a younger Dean. He remembered baseball games and hot dogs. He remembered swing sets and zoos. That was another lifetime ago. He had to let go, it was best for his boys.

“I’ll do it.”

************

Several hours later, Dean woke up. He seemed to sleep a lot. He wasn’t sure if that was a side effect of boredom, or of the illness itself. As he started to come back to full awareness, he noticed Ellen and Bobby sitting by his bedside, they seemed nervous about something.

“Hi guys,” he said, cautiously, “what’s up?”

“Your dad was here,” Ellen said gently. “He signed the papers for your surgery.”

Dean frowned. Dad was here? Why didn’t he come to see him?

“Son,” Bobby said, “he also signed over his parental rights to your aunt and me.”

“Dad is getting rid of us?” Dean didn’t sound like a 17-year-old in that moment. In that question was the fear and sadness of a small boy who lost his mother to violence and lost his father to an unfathomable grief. In that voice was a scared little boy who wanted hugs and pie and love, but who felt abandoned and unworthy.

“No, baby,” Ellen cooed, shifting from the chair to move on to the bed to cradle Dean in her arms. “He just was hurting too much. He didn’t want to see you so sick…”

“So he decided to dump my cancer-ridden ass and stick you with me,” Dean interrupted, bitterness and disappointment flooding his tone.

“You listen to me, Dean Winchester,” Ellen said, every inch a protective mother in a rage. “You stop that right now. Your Uncle Bobby and I love you. We couldn’t love you more if you were our own. We have wanted to have you with us for years now, I’m just glad your Daddy finally agreed.”

“Also,” Bobby said, stepping up beside Ellen, “now we can move forward with your treatment. All the papers have been signed, you can get your surgery and focus on getting better.”

“Awesome,” Dean said sarcastically.

“You watch your tone, young man,” Bobby said sternly, and just like that the bravado left Dean, and the vulnerable boy was back.

“Why am I not good enough for him?” Dean asked as he started to cry. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Ellen and Bobby shared a look, both with tears forming in their eyes, and they weren’t sure what to say.

“Screw him, Dean,” said a new voice from the doorway.

Three heads turned in stunned unison to see Sam and Castiel standing in the doorway. Sam had fury blazing in his eyes as he spat out his anger toward his father. Castiel stood by his side, blue eyes filled with sadness and concern for Dean.

“He’s the one who’s missing out,” Sam said fiercely. “He’s missing out on knowing the best man I have ever met.”

Dean barked out a half-laugh, half-sob. “When did you get so smart, bitch?”

“I learned it from you, jerk.”

Ellen and Bobby smiled. They knew they would have to work through more with the boys, but for now it seemed like they could move forward. For the first time in years, the Singers could rest knowing that Sam and Dean would be properly taken care of. This knowledge was even better because now they could work on getting Dean the care he needed to get better.

They would all be with him every step of the way, as a family should be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to go hide now. I still love you all and think you are amazing.


	8. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean deals with the emotional aftermath of John's visit and his own low self-worth.

The days following John Winchester’s abrupt return and departure were marked by a flurry of mixed emotions and activity.

Now that John relinquished his parental rights of Dean and Sam, Bobby and Ellen enlisted Balthazar to help tie up the legalities. Bobby sat with Dean shortly after John left to ask what Dean wanted. Did Dean want to be emancipated, but still live with Bobby and Ellen; or did he want them to formally adopt him. Dean didn’t know what to say. There were so many emotions warring for dominance in his head. John’s decision further damaged Dean’s already low self-opinion. The teenager felt if he would have worked harder or not gotten sick, then his father wouldn’t have given him and Sam up. Dean loved Bobby and Ellen but he didn’t want to be a burden.

Bobby could see the dark path Dean’s thoughts were taking, and he quickly worked to reassure the boy that he was loved, he was wanted. After their talk, Dean shyly admitted that he would love if Bobby and Ellen would want to adopt Sam and him both. Ellen explained to Dean that it probably would take several months for the paperwork to go through.

Neither adult expected the courts to take issue with the petition considering Dean’s health and the fact that John legally signed away his parental rights. Even without John to contest the Singers’ motion, the court system worked slowly. Sioux Falls was not a large city and it was going to take time for the family courts to hear the case. In the meantime, due to Dean’s medical condition, Ellen and Bobby would be his guardians and be able to make medical decisions on his behalf.

Dean was relieved to have something stable for Sam. As always, Dean’s first thought was to protect Sammy and to think about what was best for him. There were a lot of decisions that needed to be made in the coming days and Dean was glad that Sammy would have Bobby and Ellen to help him.

Dean felt like he was falling apart. His father’s rejection, and that was all he could see it as, stung in a way nothing else had. Losing his mother was awful, but he had been a young boy; his memories of her were vague and unformed, surrounded by a dreamlike quality. However, he had looked up to his dad for all seventeen years of his life. Sure, John was gone a lot, and he drank too much, and left Dean with responsibilities to great for a teenager; but, that was Dean’s dad and he loved the man. The thought that John might not love Dean as much, or that he was so willing to cut the ties broke something in Dean. Sam saw the change in his brother, but didn’t know what to do, so he held his tongue for the time being.

With John’s permission to proceed with the surgery, Dr. Roberts leapt into action and started contacting the appropriate surgeon and getting placed on the Operating Room schedule. The doctor wanted to attack the cancer as soon as possible so that Dean had a better chance the beat the illness. With the doctor’s quick action, the surgery was to take place in three days.

While he waited for the doctors to rip open his stomach and remove an invading force that was killing him, Dean realized his condition was getting worse. After he had been admitted to the hospital, he had been able to eat solid food – sure it was bland and had the consistency of Styrofoam, but it was an approximation of real food. As each day passed, he found him stomach rejecting more and more of what he put in it. Each time he ate solid food, he would find himself praying to the porcelain god about 20 minutes later, heaving up all he ate (plus a little bile and blood for added color and texture). These intense sessions would leave his stomach muscles cramping and seizing and Dean sprawled on the bathroom floor crying out in pain. Gradually, Dr. Roberts realized even though he still was optimistic they could remove the tumor and aggressively attack the cancer, the illness was progressing rapidly and the surgery needed to be done as soon as possible.

To ease Dean’s discomfort and try to prevent future cramping, solid foods were removed from his menu. The nurses who brought his meal trays began to uncover broths, puddings, and ice cream. Dean once would have joked that he was a warrior (at least when he went LARPing with his friends) and he couldn’t live on rabbit food. But, the truth was he didn’t have the strength to protest. He knew he was getting worse.

The day before the surgery, Dean hauled himself out of the bed to wheel himself and Ivy (yes, he gave his I.V. stand a nickname…give him a break, he was bored) into the bathroom. After he took care of his business, Dean stood at the sink to wash his hands and he took his first good look at himself in several days. The reflection in the mirror startled him. That boy in the mirror, that wasn’t him – it couldn’t be him.

Reflected in the mirror was a boy who looked both younger and older than seventeen. This doppelganger was 20 pounds thinner than Dean knew himself to be, and the weight loss had caused his eyes to look more pronounced. His face was sunken in, the cheek bones more defined. The normally healthy bronze color of Dean’s skin looked like it had been leached away, leaving a sickly pallor. He almost looked like a proto-zombie from one of those horror films. _Or a corpse_ , his subconscious said unhelpfully.

Dean couldn’t stop staring at himself. This wasn’t happening. He didn’t look like this, it was a trick mirror, someone was playing a prank on him – probably Gabriel, Castiel’s brother was a major trickster and loved to play jokes on people. Dean would so get Gabe back for this. There is no way the reflection staring back at him was Dean Winchester.

The longer he stared, the more afraid he became. Everything started to become more real.

 _“Holy shit,”_ he thought, dazedly, _“I could die. This could kill me. I look hideous. Why would anyone want to be with me?”_

He felt the tears spring to his eyes and start to track down his cheeks unchecked. He sank slowly to the floor, not caring if he ripped the I.V. needle out of his arm. He looked horrible, he could die. Once he fell to the floor, he curled up into himself and started to shake. His whole body was shaking with such strong tremors, they almost could be mistaken for seizures.

Dean didn’t know how long he sat there, shaking and crying, but after a time, he became aware of another presence in the room. That someone, possibly someone he loved could see him like this made Dean try to make himself even smaller, hoping he could disappear.

The other person wasn’t going to let him descend into his own personal Hell. The other person (Dean still hadn’t looked up to see who it was) wrapped Dean in an embrace and held him tight. With that first touch, the green-eyed boy immediately knew who was holding him, it was his angel, Castiel, trying to raise him from his burden.

“Get outta here, Cas,” Dean choked out through his tears. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I don’t want you to have to go through this.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Cas said softly, but ever so firmly.

“Was selfish,” Dean sobbed. “Should never have told you how I felt. Who falls in love in a hospital for Christ’s sake?”

“We didn’t fall in love in a hospital,” Cas calmly reminded the sobbing Winchester. “We fell in love over the course of 12 years, we were just idiots who didn’t realize it until you were in the hospital.”

“Yeah, Cas, putting it like that is soooo much better.”

“At least it got you to make a joke,” Cas said as he pulled back to look at Dean. “Has something happened? Why are you so upset?”

“Has something happened?” Dean asked incredulously. “Hell yes something has happened. My whole fucking world has just gotten turned upside down. I get told I have cancer and I have about a 20% chance of beating it, then my dad shows up – but, he doesn’t want to talk to me, no I’m not good enough for that. He just showed up so he could finally dump my useless ass.”

“Dean…” Cas tried to interrupt.

“Knew I was never good enough for him,” Dean rambled on over Cas’ attempts to speak. “Oh, yeah, and tomorrow I am going under the knife to have a section of my stomach removed in the hopes that my survival will be at least 20%, there’s always a chance it could be worse.

“And on top of all that,” Dean ranted, really picking up steam in his pity party, “I catch a glimpse at myself in the mirror and see what a monster I have become. How fair is that to you? To Bobby? To Ellen? To, God, to Sam. That’s my baby brother, Cas, I have to look out for him, that’s my job to look after my pain in the ass little brother. All I’m doing is screwing it up. I think it would be better if I…”

“Finish that sentence and I will smite you,” Castiel growled out.

Dean looked up, surprised that Cas interrupted his ranting, and even more surprised to see how angry Cas looked.

“Cas?” Dean asked hesitantly.

“How dare you, Dean Winchester,” Cas said. “You are the best man I have ever known. I have been in love with you for years, and I have never understood why you have so low an opinion of yourself – although I blame your father – no, don’t defend him.”

Dean was going to defend his father, but promptly shut up at the look on his boyfriend’s face.

“You deserve everything,” Cas said earnestly. He took Dean’s face between his hands and forced Dean to hold his gaze – watery green locked with fiery blue. “It is awful that you got sick, but I regret nothing else. I am proud to call you my boyfriend, I love you. I am not going anywhere, you are stuck with me.”

“But I don’t even look like myself anymore,” Dean heard the slight catch in his own voice. “What if I lose my hair, what if I am not me again?”

Castiel hauled Dean up to his feet and braced the two of them against the small sink in the bathroom. The darker haired boy forced his boyfriend to look in the mirror.

“Look at yourself, Dean,” Cas ordered. He waited until Dean complied. “Do you know what I see?”

Dean looked miserable and shook his head.

“I see the most handsome man I have ever met. Yes, you have lost a little of your sparkle, but it isn’t the outside that is beautiful, it is your soul. I have never met someone with such a pure spirit. So, if you lose your hair, I don’t care. If it bothers you, I will take up a razor and shave off my own. I’d rather have you, hair or no. You are everything to me, and it would kill me if something happened to you.”

He didn’t realize he started crying during his little speech until he felt Dean’s thumbs softly stroking over his cheeks and removing a little of the moisture.

“I’m scared, Cas,” he admitted as he buried his head into the shorter boy’s shoulder. “I don’t recognize the person looking back at me. I’m afraid I’m going to end up alone, but I don’t want to put you all through the pain of this with me.”

Wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, Castiel held on tightly and tried to soothe the other teen.

“The combined forces of heaven and hell could not take me from your side,” Cas said as he pressed gentle kisses into Dean’s hair and temple. “We all love you and we are going to be here for you. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.

“We’ve got a long life ahead of us…together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos. I am having so much fun writing this story, I hope you all are enjoying it. I love to hear from you, let me know what you think. Much love to you all <3.


	9. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean goes in for his surgery - the family has to find ways to deal with the wait. We also get a little glimpse of how Castiel and Dean first met.

The day of Dean’s surgery dawned gray and rainy: A typical fall day in Sioux Falls, but it seemed to mirror the family’s mood perfectly.

There had been some arguments the day before. Both Sam and Castiel had begged to be allowed to take the day off school to be there during the surgery. Bobby, Ellen, and Hael (Castiel’s mother) all refused. The adults said the surgery was going to take several hours, and there would be nothing for the boys to do during that time. The teenagers countered that they wouldn’t be able to focus on anything and the day would be a waste. Dean settled the arguments by saying he would feel better if they both went to school, and he would see them after the surgery.

Therefore, on surgery day, only Bobby and Ellen were with Dean. The doctors allowed the Singers to be in preparation area for a few minutes to wish Dean well with everything.

“Yer gonna be alright, son,” Bobby said, gruffly. He wanted to press a kiss to Dean’s forehead, but felt that would freak the teen out. Dean knew Bobby loved him, but they had never been physically affectionate; to start now might make Dean more nervous about the surgery.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said, his voice already a little slurred from the pre-anesthetic cocktail the doctors had injected into his I.V.

“We’re going to be downstairs waiting for you,” Ellen said. “Don’tcha worry about anything, these doctors are going to take real good care of you.”

Ellen smoothed Dean’s matted hair from his forehead, and leaned over to give him a kiss – something she had done countless times.

“Bye, Ellen,” Dean said, as his eyes fluttered closed.

“See you soon, baby,” she replied, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes.

The Singers watched as Dean was wheeled into the operating theater. Once the gurney was out of sight, Ellen turned toward Bobby and let go some of the tears she held back in front of Dean. Bobby wrapped his arms around his wife in comfort and failed to hold back a few tears of his own.

Now, they just had to wait.

No one in the Winchester-Singer-Harvelle-Novak family was a particularly impatient person, but when forced to wait, none of them were exactly calm. Each member of Dean’s family had their own way of dealing with surgery day’s anxiety. Ellen brought a crossword book to the waiting room that she promptly began to curse at when she couldn’t decipher the correct answers. Bobby took to pacing up and down the hallway, and drinking so much coffee the cafeteria workers were on a first name basis with him after a few hours. Bobby got so jittery from all the coffee, Ellen threatened if he didn’t sit still she was going to get her rifle when they got home and shoot him.

At least Bobby and Ellen had each other for support during this time, Sam and Castiel didn’t even have that. Sam went to the middle school, while Castiel was at the high school. They wouldn’t see each other until the end of the day. Their friends knew today was Dean’s surgery, but didn’t know what to say to help. As such, people tended to leave Sam and Castiel alone.

Castiel was trying not to bang his head against his desk during history as the teacher was explaining for what seemed like the hundredth time about the Revolutionary War. Apparently more than half the people in his class had failed the most recent exam, so they were going back over the subject again.

Normally, Cas would have been fine with the review. They were going to take the exam again, and he could use the refresher to make sure he did well on the re-take. Today, he just didn’t care. He was so caught up in his own thoughts he almost missed the buzzing in his pocket indicating an incoming text.

< _Cas, did you hear anything, yet?_

> _No, did you? Is something wrong?_

Panic set in slightly as Cas waited for Sam to text back. Surely Bobby or Ellen would have contacted him if something had happened to Dean, wouldn’t they? This is why he wanted to be at the hospital. Sure, it would have been sitting in uncomfortable chairs, eating tasteless food (really not that different from what he ate at school, to be honest), and aimlessly waiting. But, as soon as the news came, he would know about it. No one would be able to try to protect him until he got there. No one would be able to sugar coat it. He would know what had happened. Being at school and waiting was killing him – as was the wait for the next text from Sam.

< _No, I haven’t heard. I can’t pay attention to my classes. Everything seems so pointless._

> _Me, too. I know they think we wouldn’t have done anything at the hospital, but I’m useless here, too._

< _G2G, teacher looking my way. See you after school._

The day passed slower than usual, and by the time his final class was done, Castiel had a few choice words for everyone who forced him to come to school that day. Practically racing to his locker, Cas grabbed the few necessities he’d need for the waiting room – phone, iPod, DS – and turned to go, only to come face-to-face with his brother, Gabriel.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asked, somewhat annoyed.

“Mom’s afraid you are going to wreck trying to make it to see Dean-O, so she dropped me off so I can take you,” the older Novak responded easily.

“Is she going to pick you up from the hospital again once you take me?” Cas asked, tilting his head slightly to the side in confusion.

“Nope,” Gabe said with a grin, “I’m going to be with you the whole time.”

Castiel groaned inwardly. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his brother, he did. It’s just that Gabriel didn’t always have the best timing, and he was known for playing pranks at the worst possible moment. Also, it wasn’t a secret that Gabriel wasn’t Dean’s biggest fan. The two bickered like an old married couple. If it weren’t for the fact that Cas and Dean were now together, Cas would have thought his brother and Dean were flirting with each other.

“You don’t have to do that,” Cas tried to tell his brother, without hurting his feelings. “I’ll have Sam and Bobby and Ellen, it will be really boring.”

“I know that Dean and I aren’t close,” Gabriel responded, as serious as Castiel ever had heard him. “But, I do like the kid. Plus, you and he are together now, so I have to play nice – at least for the time. And, more than anything, you are my kid brother, I want to be there for you.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” Cas responded, tears shimmering in his eyes. “I appreciate the company.”

The Novaks left school shortly thereafter, and went to pick up a very antsy looking Sam a few minutes later. Greetings were exchanged among all three teens, but the remaining drive to the hospital was in silence. Gabriel realizing his usual humor wouldn’t be appreciated or appropriate, and Cas and Sam both lost in their own thoughts.

Arriving at the hospital, it took the boys a few minutes to locate the appropriate waiting room. Once they did, they all tumbled in and started to fire questions at Ellen and Bobby, only to be told there was no news. The surgery still was in progress, and no one had told them anything. So, all they could do was wait.

Not long after he arrived in the waiting room, Castiel noticed a clock above the door. It was a plain white clock, nothing fancy. After two hours of waiting, however, he was convinced that clock was some sort of torture device. The second hand seemed to mock him, and he could have sworn that it went backward at times instead of forward. Sam had fallen asleep and was stretched out on one of the sofas in the room. Bobby and Ellen were curled up together in corner, trying to nap, but also taking comfort in each other. Gabriel had gone in search of candy, saying if he was going to be cooped up with a bunch of worrywarts, he needed more sugar. That left Castiel to himself…which wasn’t the best thing.

Lost in his thoughts, Castiel wondered what would happen if the surgery wasn’t successful. It was a thought he had pushed from his mind ever since he knew it was needed. He tried so hard to stay positive, but now that he was here and the operation was taking longer than expected, the dark thoughts started to invade his subconscious. Maybe it was good he had been at school, at least he had been distracted.

What would he do without Dean? They only had been boyfriends for a few days, they hadn’t even had a chance to go on a real date. But, even without the new romantic involvement, Dean was his best friend, and had been since the Winchester boys moved to Sioux Falls when Dean and Cas were 5-years-old. Cas would never forget meeting Dean for the first time.

********

_Castiel was scrawny for his age. People often took him for younger than his five years. The fact that he was shy and stuttered slightly didn’t help with the school bullies, in fact, it encouraged them to torment Cas. The other kids also liked to make fun of the young boy because they all knew that Cas’ dad left his mother, and it was just Hael and her two boys. Gabriel, being a few years older, didn’t have to put up with the torment as much. The older Novak knew how to stand up for himself by throwing out a joke or similarly making fun of his tormenters. Castiel didn’t have that same ability. He was painfully shy and hated attention._

_On this day, a group of bullies led by Alistair and Lilith had Castiel cornered and were taunting him about how no one loved him._

_“Yeah, little baby Cassie,” Alistair cooed. “So unloved his own Daddy went away.”_

_“Baby Cassie with his little baby tears,” Lilith chimed in gleefully._

_Castiel didn’t know what to say, he tried to get away from them, but he had nowhere to go._

_“Hey, douchebags,” Castiel heard another voice say. “Leave him alone, he hasn’t done anything to you.”_

_Alistair and Lilith turned around, but they were blocking Castiel’s view, he couldn’t see who was speaking._

_“You’re that new kid, aren’t you?” Alistair asked. “You should know not to get on my bad side.”_

_“Yeah, yeah,” the new boy said, dismissively. “You’re scary. My Daddy’s scarier than you’ll ever be, so I’m not afraid.”_

_Alistair went over to the other boy, posture threatening, and at that moment the teacher came out and declared recess to be over._

_“This isn’t over, yet,” Alistair hissed to the other boy._

_“You keep telling yourself that.”_

_Castiel kept his eyes on the ground as Alistair and Lilith walked away. He was shaken from the encounter._

_“You okay?” the new boy asked._

_“I think so,” Castiel whispered, still not looking up. He didn’t want the other boy to see the tears in his eyes._

_“Those kids are real jerks, aren’t they? I’m Dean, by the way,” the new boy continued._

_“Castiel,” was the mumbled response._

_“Castiel, huh? Wow, that’s a little bit much. You okay if I call you Cas?”_

_Castiel looked up at that point and saw a beautiful young boy his own age. The boy had blond hair and the most brilliant, warm, and kind green eyes that Castiel ever had seen. There was no malice in those eyes, only the honest attempt at friendship, and that immediately put Castiel at ease._

_“Cas would be fine,” he responded with a wan smile. “Just not Cassie, I hate when people call me that.”_

_“Cas it is,” Dean said with a grin that lit up his entire face. “I’m new here, just moved from Kansas. Do you want to be friends?”_

******

From that day, it always had been Cas and Dean. The two boys were inseparable. They even planned on going to the same college together so they wouldn’t have to be apart. Now, Castiel realized they could be separated by something a lot more than distance. Panic flared in his chest, he couldn’t lose Dean. He loved Dean. Oh my God, he loved Dean and he never got a chance to tell him, what if he never got the chance to tell him.

Just as Castiel was on the verge of a massive panic attack, the door to the family waiting room opened and Dr. Roberts walked in.

“Dean is out of surgery.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had ever intention of updating last night, and ended up with a killer migraine. I still am suffering from it to some extent, but I wanted to get this part up. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Also, thank you so much to everyone for reading. I hope you are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it. Love to you all.


	10. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up after his surgery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short(ish) chapter to describe Dean's feelings upon awakening after his surgery. I am posting a little earlier than usual today because I am afraid my migraine is going to come back and I didn't want to get behind in the story.

Awareness returned slowly to Dean.

Even as he drifted back toward wakefulness, a part of his subconscious railed against it. Once he awoke, he somehow knew pain would stalk him like an unwanted acquaintance.

However hard he fought, Dean knew he had to pull himself from the blessed darkness of oblivion. He knew those he loved would be worried and waiting for him. And, being Dean, he always worried more about others than his own well-being: It was a trait his loved ones both admired and detested in the teen.

As he began to regain himself, Dean kept his eyes closed, just taking stock of his body and surroundings.

The first thing he noticed was intense pain in his stomach, almost worse than what he felt before the surgery. He felt as though someone was repeatedly stabbing him with a red-hot poker and trying to rip out his intestines. Next, he noticed an intrusion in his throat. That made his eyes fly open in panic.

All of a sudden, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He felt his airway constricting and he tried to reach up to grab the tube that was snaking down his esophagus. So intent was he on trying to remove the vent from his throat that he didn’t hear his name being called repeatedly. It wasn’t until he ripped the tubing from his throat that he finally felt warm, soothing hands on his shoulders – rubbing the tense muscles and trying to get him to relax.

“ _Dean_ ,” the voice said calmly, but insistently. “Baby, you have to calm down; you’re going to hurt yourself.”

That was Ellen’s voice he heard. He was trying to make sense of what was going on. He remembered going for surgery to remove a cancerous tumor from his abdomen. He remembered being wheeled into the operating room and having a doctor put a clear mask over his nose and mouth. Then, there was a sickly sweet, yet somewhat stale vapor he was breathing in. The last thing he remembered was the doctor asking him to count backward from one hundred.

He was panicking, and he knew it. But knowledge of that and trying to control it were two separate things. The more he tried to bring himself under control, the more he felt his control slip away.

“Dean,” another, more gravelly voice sounded by his ear. _Cas._ “Dean, you have to relax. I don’t want you to hurt yourself any more. Please, Dean, for me.”

His eyes looked wildly around the room, flailing about trying to find something to latch on to. It was at that point that frightened green latched on to concerned, but calm, blue. Cas’ eyes always were like an ocean to Dean, and he found himself compelled to stare at his boyfriend.

“Breathe with me, Dean,” Cas urged, his voice calm and soothing, almost like a lullaby. “Match your breathing to mine. Breathe in. Let it out.”

At first, Dean couldn’t match his breathing with Cas’ even cadence. But, his boyfriend was patient, if nothing else, and kept encouraging Dean to steady his breathing. Several minutes passed, the two teenagers kept their gazes locked with each other, and eventually Dean’s breathing even out. The alarms on the heart monitors, which Dean hadn’t even noticed at the height of his attack, were turned off, and he had some control back over himself.

“Good, Dean,” Cas enthused. “You’re doing so well, baby. I’m so glad to see you awake.”

Under normal circumstances, Dean would have smirked at Cas’ pet name; right now, that name was another balm to help soothe his frazzled nerves. Trying to maintain his newfound calm, Dean continued to stare at his best friend, and it wasn’t until several minutes later that he began to expand his awareness to the rest of the room.

Looking to his right, he saw Ellen standing beside him, and only then did he feel her fingers gently carding through his sweat soaked hair. He looked at her and tried to smile, although he wasn’t sure if he was entirely successful. The smile must have come through to some extent because he received a smile back from his soon-to-be adoptive mother. She leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Welcome back, sweetie,” she said, eyes slightly more misty than usual. “We’ve missed you.”

Dean tried to nod, but the effort was weak, at best.

Scanning his eyes outward, he saw Bobby standing behind Ellen’s shoulder, and behind Bobby, almost hidden by the older man was Sammy. His brother looked so much younger than his almost 14 years. Dean could tell that Sam was scared to death, but was trying to put on a brave face so that his big brother would be proud of him. He also noticed a dark-haired nurse adjusting the settings on the machinery he was hooked up to.

Once he settled down and was more aware of his surroundings that was when the pain truly hit.

“Unnhh,” he grumbled, finding his throat raw and scratchy both from disuse and from the ventilator being so harshly removed.

“Dean, you are going to be in a fair amount of pain,” the nurse, Meg, her badge said. “We wanted to wait until you woke up until we started administering painkillers. I am going to put you on a delayed morphine drip, you can administer the medication to yourself when you need to; but, you will not be able to give yourself more than one dose per hour.”

Dean grunted and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“If the pain still is too much with the drip, let us know and we will talk to the doctor about adjusting the dosage, okay?”

Again, Dean nodded; it seemed to be the only form of communication he could truly muster at this point.

As the morphine began to flow through the I.V. into his veins, Dean felt a warming sensation. His limbs, which had tensed up in pain upon awakening, began to loosen and unfurl. He felt slightly more comfortable, although his head started to feel a little fuzzy, like he was looking through frosted glass at the scene in front of him.

Dean had so many questions. He wanted to know if they got the full tumor, if he still needed chemotherapy, how long it had been since the surgery, how his family was holding up. He tried to ask all these questions, but his tongue felt thick and wooly in his mouth.

Sensing his discomfort almost like she had psychic abilities, Ellen reached for a white Styrofoam cup on the bedside near Dean. She lifted an ice chip out of the cup and put it to his mouth. He gratefully opened his chapped lips and allowed her to place the cool ice on his tongue.

“Slowly, baby,” she cooed. “You can’t have too much to drink just yet. Doc wants you to work up to having sips of water so as not to upset your stomach.”

Again nodding his understanding, Dean closed his eyes. He didn’t want to go back to sleep after just returning to consciousness, but even though he had just woken up, he found himself to be absolutely exhausted. He squeezed Ellen’s and Cas’ hands as much as he was able, then he let the soothing nothingness of sleep take him back down where he couldn’t hurt any longer – at least for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are amazing. Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos. I love each and every one of them. I am so grateful that you are enjoying my story. Much love to you all <3.


	11. Creep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is recovering from his surgery and has some important discussions with Balthazar and Dr. Roberts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so didn't expect this chapter to take this tone, but here we are.

The next several days were exhausting and infuriating for Dean. He felt like a baby having to relearn everything. The young Winchester wasn’t even strong enough to pull himself into a seated position in his bed without assistance. If he wanted to sit up, he had to grab a metal triangular lever above his bed; the lever was attached to brackets in the ceiling. Using his upper arm strength, Dean had to hoist himself up using the metal triangle into a seated position – this way he avoided putting too much strain on his abdominal muscles and the stiches in his stomach.

Although a part of him knew this was a normal part of the healing process, Dean hated to be so dependent on his family. He always saw himself as the strong one, the one everyone else could lean on in times of hardship, to not be able to even take the few steps into the bathroom without assistance was humiliating.

It wasn’t just that he was having problems doing his daily activities, it was the crushing sense that even though he had undergone the surgery, it was all for naught. The doctor didn’t come right out and say it, but Dean was smart and a keen observer of body language. Dr. Roberts tried to convey optimism, but his posture stooped ever so slightly, and he couldn’t quite meet Dean’s gaze. Not wanting to confront the doctor in front of his family, Dean waited for his chance to speak to the doctor alone.

That opportunity didn’t come until almost three days later. Dr. Roberts had been in earlier while Bobby and Ellen were visiting and mentioned Dean most likely could go home in another three to five days, so long as he didn’t show any signs of infection. After going home, Dean would have to rest and heal from the surgery – approximately four to six weeks – before he would be able to start his first chemotherapy treatment.

Once treatment started, Dean would need to be in the hospital for several hours once a week to receive the therapy. During this time, Dr. Roberts told Dean he could go to school, but it would be difficult. The chemicals used in the treatment would likely make Dean violently ill for as many as three days after being administered.

Additionally, the teenager’s immune system would be severely compromised during the treatments, making him more susceptible to illness – which meant school would be a living petri dish for Dean; and any illness he contracted could set back his recovery. So, Bobby and Ellen were meeting with the school district to see if arrangements could be made for Dean to do his work through a virtual classroom and submit his work online. That way he could keep up with his assignments and not fall behind. The adults thought this would sustain his hope that he could still apply and attend MIT as planned.

What no one knew is that Dean had very little hope, at this point. He was taking advantage of being alone in the hospital room to do some of his own planning. Dr. Roberts usually made his afternoon rounds between 1:30 and 2:30; this would be the first time Dean would have a chance to talk to the other man alone. Furthermore, the Singers’ lawyer, Balthazar, was coming by shortly to have Dean sign some papers to expedite the adoption process.

Just as he was gathering his thoughts, there was a knock at the door, startling Dean. He glanced at the clock beside his bed, and was surprised to find it was a half hour since he last looked at the time. He saw the lanky frame of Balthazar standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Dean darling,” he sallied, somewhat insincerely, his British accent sounding even more clipped this afternoon.

“Balthazar,” Dean replied tightly, nodding his head slightly in greeting.

“I have the papers to finalize the adoption process, all you have to do is sign where I tell you and I can leave you to wallow,” the older man said snidely.

“Cut the crap,” Dean growled. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” the other man retorted. “I wasn’t aware I owed you anything.”

Dean sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache building. He couldn’t seem to keep any pains at bay these days, yet another way he felt he was failing. Another way his body was letting him down.

“Look, _Balthy_ ,” Dean said sarcastically, “you and I might not like each other, but I know you like Bobby and Ellen. If you don’t want to help me, at least listen to me in order to help them.”

A momentary look of surprise crossed the other man’s face, but he quickly schooled his featured back into a look of mild distain. He didn’t answer Dean, but just stared at him and waited for the teenager to take the lead.

“I need to use your services.”

“Aww, Deanie, I didn’t know you were interested in older men,” the lawyer practically crooned. “I thought you were saving yourself for that cute, little uptight piece that always hovers over you. Although if you were interested in a threesome, I’m sure I might be amenable to that.”

“Oh my God, will you just shut up,” Dean groaned. “How the hell did you even get your legal certification? Did you bribe someone? No, don’t answer that, I don’t really want to know.”

Balthazar just sat there with a slight smirk on his face, pleased he was able to rattle the younger man. He didn’t know what it was about Dean that he loved tormenting; of course, it was all in good fun, he secretly liked and admired the boy a great deal. In some ways, Dean reminded him of his younger brother, perhaps that was why he teased the teen so mercilessly.

“I need you to write up my living will and DNR,” Dean stated, voice somewhat choked, but his gaze was clear and steady when he looked at the lawyer.

“What?” Balthazar gasped. There were very few people, very few situations that were able to throw him for a loop, but in this moment, he felt his thoughts scatter to the wind. Of all the things he thought Dean could possibly ask him, this was never anything he considered.

“I said,” Dean repeated, slowly as though speaking to a small child, “I want you to write up my living will and order to not resuscitate. I have been doing my research, and I believe I know the exact criterion that I will need to have listed.”

“What?” Balthazar thought he could be forgiven for sitting there gaping like a fish. What was Dean doing? He had just finished surgery, he hadn’t even had his first chemotherapy treatment yet, he was young and healthy outside of the cancer invading his body – surely he was going to be fine.

“I don’t want to be a burden to my family,” Dean said, voice dropping slightly, shoulders stooped. “I don’t want them to hold on to false hopes. I have read stories where people haven’t been clear enough about their wishes, and I don’t want my family to be afraid to pull the plug on me. I don’t want them to have to live with making that decision.”

“You don’t think they would want to be involved in this?” the lawyer asked, incredulously. If he had learned anything from spending the past few weeks with the Winchester-Singer-Harvelle-Novak clans, it was that they tended to be very protective of one another. He also knew that Dean had very self-sacrificing tendencies that worked in counterpoint to his family’s wishes.

“I think they would try to stop me,” Dean shrugged. “If you are successful with the court, I am soon to be an emancipated minor, even though I will be legally adopted by Bobby and Ellen. Even if I am not emancipated, I will be eighteen before too long I’m pretty sure I won’t kick the bucket before my birthday.”

Balthazar could tell that Dean was try to make a self-deprecating joke with that statement, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh. How could this boy think so little of himself? Couldn’t he see how much his family loved him?

“I know my family loves me,” Dean stated, startling the attorney out of his reverie. “The problem, in a way, is they love me too much; they won’t want to let me go. But, I don’t want them to suffer.

“So, this is what I want to do, I want to state, very clearly that I, Dean John Winchester, being of sound mind and body, do not want to be saved by any heroic measures. If my brain function ceases, if I am dependent upon machines solely for my breathing and/or my nourishment with no chance of regaining those functions on my own, I want the machines to be removed and for nature to take its course.

“If during any time, my heart stops, I do not want the doctors, nurses, or first responders to use any extraordinary measures to restart my sinus rhythm. I want them to do whatever they need to under their oaths to attempt to first resuscitate me, but if those initial attempts fail, I want them to cease and desist.

“I want also you to prepare my final will and testament. I want it stated that I am to be cremated, and my ashes are to be scattered at the Grand Canyon at dusk. I’ve never been to see the Grand Canyon, so I figure it would be a grand adventure to have bits of me scattered there.

“I have no real earthly possessions, but whatever I have I want to go to Castiel Novak, Samuel Winchester, and Bobby and Ellen Singer, for them to use or donate as they see fit.”

The speech didn’t take much time for Dean to deliver, but at the end of it, the teenager was exhausted. He had no energy whatsoever, and to project authority and confidence for the amount of time he did tapped in whatever reserves he had stored in preparation.

Balthazar didn’t know what to say. The younger man clearly had researched what he wanted, and had presented a straight-forward list of requests. The codicil would be easy enough to write, but he still couldn’t believe the teenager had put this much thought into this. It dawned on the older man at that point, that Dean didn’t see a way out of this. He thought he knew how his story was going to end, and it was going to be ground up in the bottom of an urn, or buried six feet under in a box; and Dean Winchester wanted to call the shots until the end.

“Dean,” he asked, somewhat hesitantly, “are you certain about this? If we write this down, there is no changing your mind at the last minute.”

“I understand,” was the response. Straightforward and with no hesitation, the boy was determined to have this done.

“I will draft the papers today and bring them back in a day or two for your review and signature, if that is acceptable,” Balthazar felt he needed to respond to the situation with the gravity that Dean had presented it to him. The teenager was due this amount of respect.

“Thank you, counselor,” Dean said, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “One last thing?”

“Go ahead.”

“Sammy wants to be a lawyer when he grows up,” Dean said, pride and sadness mixed in his voice. “He has plans to go to Stanford to study. Little squirt’s smart enough, he’ll probably get a free ride.”

“It’s a good school,” Balthazar responded, somewhat confused as to what he could do.

“He’ll need a mentor,” Dean answered. “Someone to show him the ropes, help him make good decisions and stay out of trouble. Can I count on you to do that, if I’m not around?”

At that moment, the other man wanted to stand up and wrap the boy in a hug, but he also wanted to run out of the room and pretend none of this had ever happened. However, as he met the cool, steady green gaze of the young man in front of him, he knew he couldn’t turn this down.

“I promise, I will look out for him as though he were my own brother,” he solemnly stated.

Dean nodded, almost regally. “If you don’t, I’ll haunt your ass.”

Both men cracked a small smile at that, the tension easing somewhat. They had an understanding and that was all that mattered.

“I’m going to go and get these papers finalized,” the blond-haired man said, standing. “Take care, Dean.”

“You, too, Balthy.”

The other man couldn’t help but smile at the quip. “Cheeky bastard.”

******

Dean was physically and emotionally exhausted after Balthazar left. The other man was a cocky son of a bitch, but Dean knew he was good man, he just liked to pretend he was a devil.

There was nothing the teenager wanted more than to close his eyes and rest, but he didn’t want to miss Dr. Roberts’ visit. Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait. About fifteen minutes after the lawyer left, Dr. Roberts peeked his head into the room.

“And how are we feeling today, Dean?” the doctor asked, seemingly false cheer in his voice.

“Peachy,” was the response.

“No signs of infection,” Roberts said reviewing Dean’s charts. “As long as this holds, I think you can go home in another two or three days.”

“Awesome,” Dean said, and worked to muster his courage. “So, I wanted to talk to you, without my family here.”

“About what?”

“My real chances,” Dean said, levelling a stare that could turn lesser men to stone.

“I’ve told you your real chances,” the doctor said, his gaze not quite meeting Dean’s.

“No, you haven’t,” the teenager said, sounding so much older than his seventeen years. “You’ve put the happy dance spin on it to keep my sprits up, especially around the others. I can tell you are keeping something back.”

Roberts sighed. He didn’t want to tell the younger boy this, especially without his family present, but he would tell him everything.

“We are ninety percent certain that we removed the full tumor from your abdomen,” the doctor said, sitting himself in the chair next to Dean’s bed. “However, we cannot be sure of that at this point. To do another endoscopy so close to the surgery would risk infection for sure, and we don’t like to use MRI or CT technology close to administering chemotherapy.

“At this point, we are going to proceed as planned with the chemotherapy. We think your body will be strong enough in four to six weeks to handle the dosage.

“If you have a severe reaction to the drugs, we will have to halt the treatments. At that point, we will have to do another endoscopy to see if there are any new growths. We probably will also have to have a full body P.E.T. scan to see if the cancer has spread beyond your abdomen. Once we have that information, we should be able to chart a new course, if needed.”

“Which is?” Dean had paled slightly listening to the doctor confirming what he feared, but he needed to know the whole story.

“Most likely more surgery, possibly exploratory surgery to see if we can remove more of the growths. At that point, we would wait another four to six weeks and see if we could begin chemotherapy again.”

“If that doesn’t work?”

“Then, by that point, if the cancer has spread more during the wait time, there really would be nothing additional we could do,” Roberts felt like a cold-hearted bastard being this blunt, but he knew the boy was craving honesty; he just wished he didn’t have to be the one to provide it. “We could do additional surgery at that point, but it would be more palliative than curative.”

“No,” Dean said, voice barely above a whisper, eyes jade bright with tears. “No more surgeries.”

“Then,” the doctor said, his voice lowering to match that of his patient, “we would do what we could to make you comfortable, either here, at home, or in hospice.”

Dean nodded. He understood what the doctor was saying. Dr. Roberts truly hadn’t lost hope, Dean could see that. The physician believed there was some hope that the chemotherapy could be successful. Dean was relieved to have been told the truth, even though it felt as though someone had stabbed him through the heart with a sharp dagger to know it really was that serious. Fucking hell. He was seventeen for God’s sake. This wasn’t supposed to happen to him. He was supposed to be able to go on a date with Cas and go to dances, and get drunk for the first time. He wasn’t supposed to be laid up in a hospital room talking with lawyers and doctors about his final directives and what hospice care he preferred.

Not being one for self-pity, Dean thanked the doctor for his honesty.

“It’s too soon to give up, Dean,” the doctor said kindly. “I haven’t given up on you. You’re a strong kid. What I’ve told you is the worst case scenario; we have a long way to go before we get there.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Dean said, a small smile gracing his lips, but not quite making it to his eyes.

Roberts let himself out of the room shortly thereafter, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts. The teenager knew he was going to fight as hard as he could, but he also was trying to be realistic. He needed to make sure he had taken care of those he loved most in this world.

With those thoughts, the teenager fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Quietly posts chapter and slinks away*
> 
> I still love you all - hope you love me, too. I'm so sorry.


	12. Say Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is home from the hospital, but is having a hard time settling in. His feelings of self-doubt start to make him question everything, especially his new relationship with Castiel, which leads Cas to a disturbing discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since tonight is the Season 10 mid-season finale, I am not sure I will be emotionally able to write, so I decided to post early.
> 
> Also, new tags have been added to deal with this chapter, so please be mindful.

Three days after his conversations with Balthazar and Dr. Roberts, Dean was released from the hospital. To be honest, his feelings about this are more mixed than he thought they would be. On one hand he is glad to be out of the hospital: No one poking him to draw blood or take his vitals every two hours. He can finally sleep in a bed that will fit, comfortably, his six-foot frame.

And he can't wait to eat some of Ellen's home cooking. He feels some of the weight he lost in the hospital was just because what they tried to serve him wasn't real food. Ellen keeps promising she's going to cook all Dean's favorites to put some meat back on his bones.

But, Dean is nervous to be home, too. Despite its flaws, there was safety at the hospital. If he got sick or started having problems, the nurses and doctors would be able to take care of it. Dean feared being a burden to his family. He also feared that if he got sicker and actually died in his sleep, he didn't want those images for his family.

During the next two weeks, they all eased into a routine. Ellen and Bobby, who both owned their own businesses, would stagger their shifts so someone was home to help Dean, if he needed. Sam and Castiel continued to go to school, coming straight home afterwards to spend time with Dean. In more recent days, however, Sam started spending time after school at a friend’s house to play video games. The fact that his brother was starting to let go made Dean smile, despite the blanket of depression that seemed to cling to the older boy these days. The first few days after Dean’s surgery, Sammy had a haunted look about him. The youngest Winchester looked like he was afraid if he blinked Dean would be taken away from him. Slowly that looked started to fade away, but Dean was concerned once the chemo treatments start, if he does react badly to the medicine, that fear will come back to Sam tenfold.

No one was letting Dean do anything. They all said he needed to rest and conserve his energy. He knew they had his best interests at heart, but all they were succeeding doing was making him feel worthless. Everyone was doing so much for him, and could only sit back and let them. If he made it more than four hours without having to take a nap, it was an accomplishment for him. The home health care nurse who came by every day to check on him during this transitional phase assured Dean that fatigue was a normal part of surgical recovery: Knowing that didn’t make him feel any better. He began to feel as though he didn’t deserve any of the kindness he was receiving, he didn’t deserve such a loving family if he couldn’t contribute anything back.

If he wouldn’t have been in such a dark place, he would have smacked himself for the royal pity party he was throwing, but he didn’t care – what’s more he didn’t care that he didn’t care. He hated himself. He hated himself for being sick. He hated himself for being a burden. He hated himself for not going somewhere so he didn’t have to make his family suffer.

His doubts festered and made him question everything: These doubts were much like the cancer in his body, seeping out and poisoning memories, tainting everything with Dean’s self-hatred. More than anything, Dean didn't know what he did to deserve Cas. Sweet, even-tempered, patient, gentle, generous Cas, who truly was the best boyfriend in the world. He knew when Dean needed his space, and when he needed company. Dean was amazed that Cas hadn't thrown up his hands in frustration and abandoned Dean's sorry ass.

Every day after school, Castiel came over to give Dean his assignments and to do their work together. After they finished, they would watch crappy sci-fi or talk about everything and anything. Sometimes Cas would lean over and start feathering tiny, playfully sweet kisses all over Dean's face. He said it was his attempt to kiss every freckle on the green-eyed boy's face. Dean just thought it was a way to make him laugh.

One day, Dean had to ask: "Why are you still here, Dude?"

"I'm sorry, Dean," the other teen replied. "If you are tired I can go home. I don't want you to feel like you have to keep me company."

 "Naw. Babe, that's not what I mean," Dean said as he ran his fingers through Cas' perpetually out-of-control brown hair. "Why do you still wanna be with me?"

 Cas sat up from where he had been laying on Dean's chest. He cocked his head slightly to the side, as he always did when he was confused. Dean thought it was the most adorable thing ever, even though it has probably wasn't the best time to think so.

 "Where else would I be?" Cas asked in all seriousness.

 "I don't know," Dean said, sitting up and playing with the hem of his faded black Metallica t-shirt. "Maybe with someone who doesn't hold you back. Someone who doesn't have an expiration date on them."

Cas pulled back from Dean, a look of shock, then horror, and finally anger crossing his handsome face. He eyes flashed dangerously, and Dean could see just for a second the Angel of Lord that Castiel had been named for shining through that expression.

"You Assbutt," the blue-eyes boy exclaimed, eyes narrowing dangerously. "You don't think you deserve to be loved?"

Dean couldn’t answer that question, because, as usual, his boyfriend was right. He never believed himself worthy of being loved. He always felt like a screw up, someone who always let down those he loved most. Dean kept his head lowered, not wanting to answer Cas, fearing what the other boy would say.

“You are the most worthy person of love that I know, Dean Winchester,” came a soft statement from near his shoulder. Dean turned slightly and found Cas, tears swimming in his eyes. From his expression, Dean could see nothing but concern and adoration shining through.

Cas leaned closer so he and Dean were practically sharing the same air at this point, almost as though the shorter boy could breathe his love and devotion into Dean.

“I have never met someone as brave and kind and decent as you,” Castiel nudged ever closer, his lips right at the corner of Dean’s own mouth. The nearness and intensity of the contact making Dean shiver. He wanted to chase that feeling and get ever closer to his boyfriend.

“You are a brilliant, beautiful person, inside and out,” Cas continued, nibbling at the corner of Dean’s lips and moving slightly more toward center.

“I am so lucky to have you in my life and it crushes me that the person I love most in this world thinks so little of himself, when he is worth so, so very much,” at this, Castiel brought their lips fully together into an intense, but also strangely chaste kiss.

Dean was taken so aback with sensations that he couldn’t fully process what was happening. Had Castiel just said he loved Dean? But, for the next several moments, all rational thought faded into the background as the two boys shared loving, lingering kisses. These kisses were not to arouse, but rather to soothe and share affection and love – they were healing kisses, a balm to the heart and the soul of both teenagers.

*****

Several days later, Cas was sitting in Dean’s bedroom working on a paper, and Dean was downstairs with the home health nurse who had to come later that day because of her son's baseball game. Castiel stayed in Dean's room, wanting to give the other teen some privacy. Cas knew that Dean was uncomfortable with his illness and didn’t want people to treat him differently because of it. So, Cas tried to find the right word for a sentence to explain the metaphorical relationship between Captain Ahab and the white whale in _Moby Dick._ After the tenth time he revised the sentence, finally Castiel remembered Dean kept an old thesaurus in his top drawer - something Cas gave him when they were younger.

Rummaging through the drawer Cas found the beat up thesaurus, but underneath he saw letters each addressed in Dean's careful script. He knew he probably shouldn't have disturbed the bundle but curiosity got the better of him. There was a letter to Ellen and Bobby and Sam. There also was a letter to Gabriel (that seemed strange) and to Balthazar (again, strange). One surprisingly for John Winchester and finally to himself. What was this? He probably shouldn't open it, but it was addressed to him, his self-conscious reasoned.

Carefully he pried open the letter and began to read.

_My Dearest Cas,_

_If you are reading this, then it is over, and I am gone. I don’t want you to feel sad about that. I want you to know that even though I am an emotionally stunted bastard who probably never worked up the balls to tell you when I was alive – I love you. You are my angel, my life, my all. I know these words are probably difficult for you to read, and I hope that, in time, they will give you comfort instead of pain._

_There are few things I am proud of in my life. I failed those I love more than I can count. But, loving you, and having you as a friend – and for a short time – as a boyfriend, is something that I am proud of. I am so glad that we had this time, however brief, together. Please remember this if you get too sad once I am gone._

_I don’t want you to mourn me for long, Cas. I know you probably will be sad for a while, and I appreciate that, but I want you to move on. Find someone who appreciates you as much, if not more than I do. Life your life to the fullest. Love with your whole heart. Do what you always dreamed of, flourish. Be the amazing man I know you will be. Maybe keep a piece of me with you, because I will always be_

_Yours always,_

_Dean_

Castiel looked up from the letter, tears he didn’t realize that had started pouring down his face. What did this mean? Had Dean gotten new news from the doctor? Was his condition more serious? Did he not want to share this with Cas? No, that didn’t make sense. If something had happened, Bobby, Ellen, or Sam would have told him. Nothing with the doctor, then. So, what was it?

Eyes widening in horror, Castiel couldn’t stop the loud gasp that tore from his throat – did Dean mean to kill himself? Were these his suicide notes? Was he so depressed over his condition, had he really lost all hope that he was going to end it? Was that why there was a letter to Balthazar in there? Those were his final directives to the attorney for his funeral? Oh my God, what could he do? Should he say something to Bobby and Ellen? What if he left tonight and Dean killed himself after Castiel left – the darker-haired teen would never forgive himself.

The slam of the front door broke Cas from his whirling thoughts. The nurse was leaving; Dean would be coming back upstairs. Castiel wasn’t ready to confront his boyfriend about the notes just yet; he needed to think. Shoving the note back into the envelope, he put the letters in the drawer as he found them. Hurriedly, he scrubbed a hand over his face to wipe away the evidence of his tears, and tried to look as casual as possible when Dean entered the room.

One thing Cas had decided, he was not going home tonight. He was going to stay with Dean, at least until he could figure out what to do or say to convince him to keep fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say it was going to get worse before it got better, right? 
> 
> If anyone needs them, hugs and Kleenex will be available throughout the day - just message me <3.


	13. All Nightmare Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's greatest fear is realized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Suicide and gore.

Castiel woke with a jolt. The sudden change in consciousness caused the young man to feel disoriented and groggy. He laid his head back on the pillow behind him, trying to calm his breathing. Had he had a nightmare? Is that what caused him to wake so jarringly?

As he tried to clear the sleep-fuzzy fog in his brain, he looked around his room. Wait. This wasn’t his room. Where was he? Panic started to kick in again as he couldn’t make the transition from slumber to wakefulness. His eyes darted around the room and only when he caught sight of the AC/DC poster on the wall to his left, did Cas start to relax, _Dean_ , his mind supplied. Now he remembered, he decided to stay at Dean’s house last night.

Secure in where he was, and no longer troubled by whatever woke him in the first place, Castiel started to drift back to slumber. He never could fall asleep on his back – even if that was how he woke most mornings – so he turned to his right side. What good was sharing a bed with an adorably, cuddly boyfriend if you weren’t going to take advantage of it? Turning to wrap his arms around his living Dean-sized teddy bear, Castiel realized the other boy was not in the bed with him. That was odd.

Turning back to his other side, Cas caught sight of the Darth Vader alarm clock Dean kept beside his bed. The neon-green numbers indicated it was two in the morning. Maybe Dean just got up to go to the bathroom. Settling back into the cocoon of blankets, Castiel tried to get comfortable and wait for Dean to come back to bed. He knows that the other teen went to sleep at the same time he did because he remembers the two of them curling up together like kittens, sharing each other’s warmth and nuzzling at their favorite spots (Cas on Dean’s neck, and Dean behind Cas’ ear).

Resting in the bed, Castiel’s brain started to reboot. He slowly remembered why he was staying overnight at his boyfriend’s house. Sure, the two of them had plenty of sleepovers in their years as friends, but this was the first time they had done so as _boy_ friends. Castiel had to practically beg his mother’s permission to stay. He also had to deal with the increasingly lewd and suggestive texts his brother, Gabriel, continued to send. The most recent of which indicating Cas needed to use protection because Gabriel was too young and handsome to be an uncle. While his mother was a bit of challenge, Bobby and Ellen accepted the arrangement with hardly a glance. They were happy Dean was starting to do the things he did before the surgery; so, for the time being, the Singers were willing to cut the two boys a little slack.

Castiel did have to chuckle at how beet-red Dean’s cheeks got, though, when Ellen quipped that she didn’t want to be hearing the bed hitting against the wall or coming through the floorboards in the middle of the night. Sam thought that was the funniest thing ever and practically spewed his soda all over his thoroughly embarrassed big brother. Dean didn’t fluster easily, but when he did, it was the most adorable thing ever.

Sighing, the dark-haired boy wondered what was taking Dean so long. Glancing at the clock again, Castiel noticed it was fifteen minutes since he last looked. Frowning, Castiel’s mind supplied the last piece of information he hadn’t latched on to in his still sleepy state. He wasn’t staying with Dean tonight just because he wanted to cuddle, he was staying because of the notes he found in Dean’s drawer – the suicide notes.

_Shit!_ Cas cursed himself immediately. He thrashed around in the bed, trying to untangle himself from the mass of blankets now gathered between his knees. Last thing he needed was to fall to the floor and wake the whole house up. He didn’t want to alarm Bobby, Ellen, or Sam, unless he knew there was a reason to be alarmed. Working his way free of the covers, Cas started searching for his errant boyfriend. He opened the door to Dean’s room quietly, trying not to make more noise than necessary. Glancing over the upstairs railing, Castiel didn’t see any lights on below – that most likely meant Dean was not in the living room or kitchen.

The most logical place was the bathroom. Sleep fully banished from his thoughts at this point, Cas walked slowly down the hall.

“You’re being ridiculous, Castiel,” he chided himself. “Dean isn’t going to do anything stupid. He still has his chemotherapy treatments to go through. He probably just got caught up reading something in the bathroom. Maybe he wasn’t tired and didn’t want to wake you.”

Chastising himself for his fears, Cas made it to the bathroom door. Sure enough, there was a narrow band of golden light spilling onto the hallway’s gray carpet. Some of the tension eased from Castiel’s shoulders. Dean was going to make so much fun of him for this. The teen chuckled to himself thinking about how Dean would roll his eyes and ask if Cas was going to fight the toilet for his honor. Still, Cas would deal with the taunting just to assure himself his boyfriend was alright: Those words from the letter he found still were haunting him, so he needed a little extra confirmation.

“Dean,” the blue-eyed teen knocked softly on the door. “You in there?”

Pausing, Cas waited to hear a response from the other side. Ten, fifteen, twenty seconds passed with no response.

“Dean, c’mon, I need to use the bathroom,” Cas tried again a little louder.

Could Dean have fallen asleep in the bathroom? No, Cas doubted the other man would have done that, even if he had slept in some unusual places and positions since coming home from the hospital. Cas still doesn’t know how Dean fell asleep on the floor, twisted on his side, with his legs flung over the edge of the couch in the Novak’s family room.

“Don’t make me go to the bathroom in the hallway,” Cas tried to joke, “I don’t think Ellen would appreciate that much.”

Still no answer from the other side. Panic swelled inside of Cas.

Knocking louder, he tried again. “Dean Winchester, open this door right now, or I swear to God I will burn your entire _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ DVD collection.”

Nothing. The light still shined from under the door, an almost cheery glow that made Castiel’s blood run cold. Reaching out, the teenager tried to turn the door handle. To his surprise, the knob turned easily and allowed him entrance into the bathroom. He walked in and fell to his knees in horror, a shrill scream punched from his throat before he even realized what was happening.

There, hunched over the side of the bathtub, was his beloved best friend and boyfriend. His skin chalk white, eyes closed hiding the forest green irises from view, long lashes fanning out and looking darker against the now-pale skin. Cas tried to scramble to his feet, but he felt like he was stuck in tar, or quicksand. Every step he tried to take seemed to move him further away from Dean.

“Bobby! Ellen! Sam!” Castiel screamed, the sound overly loud in the peaceful night. “I need help!”

Finally making it over to the tub, he finally was able to see the true extent of Dean’s condition. For the first time, he noticed the dark red blood seeping out from Dean’s wrists…no, not just his wrists, his entire fucking arm. The cuts ran from Dean’s radial arteries all the way up to his elbows, on both sides. The gashes were deep, and there was so much blood, too much, Castiel’s brain supplied unhelpfully.

The teenager scrambled, trying to jump start his body to take action. He knew he was in shock, but now wasn’t the time for him to fall apart. He needed to work quickly to save Dean. _God_ , how stupid had Castiel been. He stayed over to keep an eye on his boyfriend, yet he dozed in bed even after he woke up. If he would have gotten up when he first woke, maybe he could have stopped Dean from doing this. Dark thoughts and recriminations swirled in Castiel’s mind. He tried to tamp them down, this wasn’t the time.

As Castiel grabbed towels from the nearest rack, he heard footsteps from outside. Not turning his attentions from his injured boyfriend, Castiel barked out for whoever it was to call an ambulance.

“Dean!” Sam screamed, trying to get into the narrow bathroom to see his big brother.

Castiel could hear the sounds of a scuffle. He knew, even without turning around, that Bobby was holding Sam back, trying to keep the younger boy from seeing the horror of his brother laying, bleeding from self-inflicted wounds, possibly dying. Sam’s screams echoed in his ears and tore more pieces of Castiel’s already shattered heart. Sam’s cries giving voice to the ones that Cas could not yet bear to let out. Cas needed to steady himself, he needed to save Dean – why else was he here, except to save Dean.

Time didn’t make sense at this point. It went too fast, but seemed too slow. Everything moved as though Castiel was underwater. He wasn’t even fully aware of his own actions. His arms were shaking from the effort of trying to stop the bleeding from Dean’s cuts.

He never heard the ambulance pull up to the house, he never heard Ellen’s shouted, terse directions as to which way to go. The next thing he became aware of, were hands. Hands prying him from Dean’s side, and Castiel fought. He was not going to let go. Dean was the love of his life, and he was not going to abandon him, no one was going to take Dean away from him – not even Dean. He would sell his soul to keep Dean with him, whole and safe.

Strong arms gripped him and pulled him away. He flailed about trying to get back to his boyfriend’s side. Dean’s skin had been cold, so cold. Castiel wanted to stay with him and try to keep him warm, to bring color back to the freckled skin. He fought to get back to the older Winchester’s side, but found himself stopped by Ellen. Ellen was saying something softly in Cas’ ear, and he felt something wet fall on his neck. _Tears_. He realized vaguely. Ellen is crying. Even though Cas was aware of this nothing made sense, it all felt so surreal.

He watched almost as though he were outside of himself, as the paramedics assessed Dean. Why weren’t they doing more? The urgent flurry of activity of their first arrival had subsided. The motions were calm and methodical. He saw them place Dean on the stretcher. But, something wasn’t right, Dean’s body wasn’t moving the way it was supposed to – it was too stiff and rigid. Why were they pulling the sheet up over his head? Didn’t they know he wouldn’t be able to breathe?

“You’re hurting him,” Castiel growled, his voice sounded strange to his own ears, raw and choked. “You can’t do that to him, he doesn’t like to have anything up over his face.”

“Cas, sweetie,” he heard Ellen say from beside him. “He’s gone.”

“No. NO!” Cas screamed, knees giving out and falling to the floor. “He’s not gone. We were going to MIT together. We were going to have a life together.”

The paramedics moved to leave the bathroom, bringing the stretcher with them. Castiel lunged to try to touch the body underneath, he needed to prove to them that Dean was still there, he was going to be fine. He found himself held back by one of the paramedics; Ellen’s arms still firmly around his waist.

“He’s gone, Cas,” she repeated, tears pouring down her face, and making her voice thick.

The words were too much for him. Castiel was supposed to save Dean. He should have told Bobby and Ellen his fears, he should have talked to Dean himself before this happened. Cas failed the one person he loved more than his own life. He cried in agony, his heart smashing to millions of little bits, never to be repaired. His grief enveloping him, smothering him. Tears streaked unchecked down his face; harsh, wrecked sobs tore from his chest and throat.

Overwhelmed by his emotions, Castiel passed out, hoping to find relief in oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea wouldn't leave my head, and I just had to post it this morning. I may come back and make a few tweaks, but I am pretty happy with how this chapter turned out.
> 
> I would just like to remind everyone this is not the last chapter, and I am so, so sorry.


	14. Come What May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place immediately after the events of the last chapter.

Castiel fought waking with everything he had. Without Dean, there was nothing really for him to wake up for. His mother was loving in her own way, but she always kept an emotional distance from her boys, as though she were afraid they would leave her as her husband had years before. Gabriel loved his younger brother, but he had more than enough friends to torment that he would manage just fine without Cas. He probably should feel guilty for abandoning Ellen, Bobby, and Sam to deal with the aftermath of Dean’s suicide, but he just couldn’t.

It was comfortable, the dark abyss he was floating in. He knew Dean was gone and he could feel the pain of that loss; but in this unconscious realm, the pain was numbed, muted like a phantom limb. Castiel wasn’t suffering here. In the quiet, he was free without remembering the blood that poured in an unending flow from his boyfriend’s pale skin. He couldn’t call to mind the shock of the bright red blood marring the pristine white tub. Here he could find relief. Here he could understand what made Dean opt for suicide. The teenager wasn’t necessarily happy, but he could let go of his worries and his fears for the time. When he woke up, he would have to deal with the aftermath. He would have to pick out a suit and put on a brave face, like a good little soldier.

Shuddering slightly, even in his seeming oblivion, Castiel didn’t know how he was supposed to bury his best friend, his love. Despite the tranquility of his state, Cas felt rage bubble up inside of him. Rage at himself – why didn’t he do more, why didn’t he confront Dean as soon as he found those letters, or at least talk to Bobby and Ellen? He was angry at Bobby, Ellen, and Sam – they were supposed to know him better than anyone in the world, why didn’t they see how badly Dean was hurting, why didn’t they do something? Finally, Castiel found himself hurling rage at Dean himself – how dare Dean do this; how dare Dean be this self-loathing and self-absorbed as to take his own life without truly considering those he was leaving behind.

Tamping down these feelings, Castiel emptied his thoughts again and just allowed himself to float. He wanted nothing more than to pretend last night hadn’t happened. If he pretended hard enough, maybe he could make it be true.

Time moved in funny ways in this non-existence space. The youth chuckled to himself as he remembered reading _Hamlet_ in his English class last year. He remembered the Dane’s soliloquy as he was feigning madness, but having difficulty maintaining the rouse – much as Cas was having difficulty shutting out the world outside his head. When they read the play in class, Dean had been immediately captivated by the speech. The green-eyed boy loved the lyrical nature of the speech, and how beautifully Hamlet spoke of death. Castiel said he didn’t understand how Dean could find anything beautiful in this speech as Hamlet was driving himself literally mad, instead of just playing at it, and this speech was just a materialization of that madness.

Dean argued passionately and brilliantly that Hamlet didn’t want to die. The fictional youth had seen too much bloodshed, and although he wanted revenge on his uncle, he wasn’t quite ready for what was to come. Yet, despite his trepidation, Hamlet saw a beauty and a tranquility in death – a respite from the toils he had to face.

Despite his anger at his boyfriend, Castiel had to admit the speech suited Dean – and his actions – perfectly. _“To die, to sleep – to sleep- perchance to dream; ay, there’s the rub, For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.”_ A fitting tribute to the feisty, yet fragile, Dean Winchester. If he was able to speak, Castiel would have to remember to recite this at his boyfriend’s funeral.

“Cas,” a voice was calling to him, trying to pull him from his own dark cocoon. It was safe in here, he didn’t have to face a world without Dean. He didn’t have to face a world where he was alone. He didn’t want to wake up, not yet.

“Come on, you gotta wake up,” the voice was insistent. It was a male voice calling to him. Sam perhaps? Maybe Bobby.

“If you wake up, I’ll give you pancakes,” there was an almost sing-song quality to the voice now. Maybe it wasn’t one of Dean’s relatives, maybe it was Gabriel. Lord knew Gabriel ingested enough sugar, candy, and syrup to give a lab rat diabetes, so the offer of pancakes was entirely in line with him. Castiel still wasn’t ready to relinquish his safe place.

Little nudges started to rattle his shoulders. Whoever was trying to wake him up was definitely insistent. He didn’t know how much longer he could resist.

“You can’t sleep here all day, cute as you are,” the voice continued. “I have plans for us that involve actually getting up and out.”

The voice was familiar, it was like something he just couldn’t quite put his finger on. Why was this person so determined to wake him? Why couldn’t he just wallow in his grief?

Still fighting the urging of the voice, pressing him ever closer to consciousness, he heard the person say, “Well, if you’re going to act like this, I guess I am just going to have to play dirty.”

 _Play dirty?_ Castiel thought. _Whatever could that mean?_

Soft as silk, the teenager felt a pair of warm lips press behind his ear. Involuntarily, Castiel shivered at the sensation. This was so wrong. He shouldn’t be responding to this person with Dean gone. The lips were insistent, and were soon joined by a rough, wet tongue that slowly lapped the shell of the boy’s ear; teasing, hot, delicate. How did this person know just how to take him apart? The only person he ever responded to like this was……..

_Dean!_

Castiel’s eyes flew open, throwing him into awareness almost instantaneously. No one had ever kissed him like Dean had. Blue-eyes wide they looked to the person gently sucking a hickey into the crook of his neck, and Castiel found himself staring into the mischievously glinting green eyes of one Dean Winchester.

“What the hell?” Castiel blurted out.

“Humph,” Dean said with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t have to resort to such sneaky tactics if you would be a little more of a morning person. Jesus, dude, I thought I was going to have to throw you into a bathtub filled with ice cubes.”

The darker-haired boy’s thoughts whirled incoherently in his head. He couldn’t explain how Dean was here right now, looking as he always had. The only explanation he possibly could think of is:

“Am I dead?” he asked, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes.

“What the hell?” Dean responded. “Why would you think you’re dead? Of course you’re not dead, Cas.”

Dean pulled back and looked at his boyfriend, trying to determine if he looked ill, or if he maybe hit his head in the middle of the night. “You sure you’re, OK? You’re kinda freaking me out a little.”

None of this made any sense to Castiel: He watched Dean die; he held the other boy in his arms while he died, there is no way he could be here now.

“Have I gone crazy?” he whispered, voice hitching with the unshed tears.

“God, no,” Dean said, a frown marring his handsome face, eyes laced with concern. “Babe, talk to me, tell me what’s the matter. You were fine when we went to bed last night.”

Castiel started sobbing uncontrollably. Great heaving bursts breaking from his chest and cutting into the otherwise quiet morning.

“You’re dead,” he cried, moaning slightly at admitting this out loud for the first time. “You cut your wrists and bled out into the bathtub. I couldn’t save you.”

Dean looked stunned. Cas thought he was dead? What the hell?

“Castiel,” the other boy said, authority seeping into his tone, commanding Castiel’s full attention – especially as Dean rarely called him by his full name. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what kind of dream you had, but look at me, I am fine.”

“No,” the other sobbed even harder, gasping to try to take another breath. “I’m hallucinating. I’m creating a new reality for myself to deal with the pain.”

Grabbing Castiel by his arms, fingers biting into the other’s tender flesh, Dean ducked his head down so that green eyes could meet blue. “Feel me, Cas,” he implored. “I’m solid. I’m real. I haven’t done anything.”

The other teen shook his head, not wanting to believe. It was too cruel, he couldn’t imagine why his imagination would do this to him. He couldn’t speak for fear of embarrassing himself further, so he just continued to cry. At a loss for what else he could do, Dean gathered the smaller boy to his chest and held him as tight as possible, running gentle circles over his back, and murmuring soothing, nonsensical phrases. When nothing seemed to work, eventually Dean started to sing “Hey Jude.”

Dean’s singing actually was what pulled Castiel out of his reverie. He knew that song was Mary Winchester’s favorite and that she would sing it to her boys as a lullaby. In all the years he had known Dean, the older Winchester refused to sing the song. He said that song had too many memories for him to be able to sing it without cause. Castiel had never heard Dean sing that particular song, so there would be no way his brain could make this up, which meant Dean had to be real.

Gasping, Castiel pulled back from Dean’s loving hold. He stared at the freckled cheeks, bright green eyes, and messy honey brown hair, and took in the sight from tip to toe of Dean Winchester. It was the most beloved sight in Castiel’s world and he never thought he would be able to see it again.

“You’re okay?” Cas breathed.

“I’m fine, why would you think I wasn’t?” Dean asked. He had been down in the dumps a little recently. But, hello? Cancer diagnosis, he thought he was entitled to a little depression. He didn’t think he was giving off suicidal vibes, though. Obviously he must’ve if Cas was freaking out and having nightmares about him offing himself.

“I found your notes,” Cas admitted quietly. “I wasn’t snooping or anything, I just happened to find them.”

Dean was confused. Was Cas trying to say that he thought Dean had written _suicide_ notes? How could he even think that? No matter how low Dean got, he would never get quite that low, he had to worry about Sammy and Cas.

“Dude, I’m not planning on punching my own ticket,” Dean said, his gaze boring into Castiel’s to convince the other boy of the voracity of his words.

“But, I found the letters,” Castiel repeated. “In your desk. I was looking for your thesaurus while you were with the nurse yesterday, and when I pulled it out of the drawer, I saw the notes written to all of us.”

Dean blanched as though horrified that Cas had discovered his secret; then reddened in embarrassment.

“Those weren't suicide notes, dumbass,” he said with a note of fond exasperation in his voice.

“What the hell were they then?”

“Look man,” Dean said, running a hand nervously through his hair, “I know my odds at this whole thing aren’t too hot. I couldn’t sleep one night and since I’m not too good with talking about, you know, feelings and stuff, I wanted to write it down.”

“So you could leave us with one last memory,” Castiel finished.

“Yeah,” Dean said sheepishly. “I know it’s ten shades of cheesy, but I wanted to have it all written down. Just because I wrote that stuff doesn’t mean I want to die. I just wanted to take care of business while I was able to.”

Castiel launched forward suddenly and crashed his lips to Dean’s in a lovingly passionate, yet somewhat desperate kiss. He poured all his love, all his anger, all his fear, and now all his joy into the meeting. When they pulled away several minutes later, both boys’ eyes were lust-blown and their breathing was labored as they tried to remember how to breathe on their own without sucking air out of the other’s lungs. They clung to each other, Castiel afraid to let go because of the demons lurking in the corners of his mind; Dean because Castiel was his lifeline, he was able to be strong through this because of Cas.

“Christ, Cas,” Dean said, irritation coloring his voice, “you could have just asked me about the letters. I would have told you and you wouldn’t have had to go all _What Dreams May Come_.”

“I was afraid,” Cas admitted, his body finally starting to be overwhelmed with all the emotional hits he had taken in the past several hours. “I was afraid if I confronted you about the notes you would lie, or you would get angry and push me away, and I didn’t want that.”

“I’m not going to push you away,” Dean said, pressing gentle kisses into the other boy’s hairline. “You are what’s helping to keep me sane, keep me fighting through all this.”

Cas huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “Bang up job I’m doing,” he retorted. “I got myself so worked up I had a nightmare that you fucking killed yourself, and then couldn’t believe you were real and standing before me when I woke up.”

“I think you’re doing a great job,” Dean replied.

The two sat in companionable silence for the next several moments, taking comfort in each other’s warmth and the fact they both were alive and able to be wrapped in the arms of the one they loved.

“Cas?” Dean asked after a few minutes.

“Hmm?” came the reply. Now that Cas was convinced Dean was alive, he was sated and a little sleepy, his nightmare from the previous night not allowing him to be really rested.

“If this is all too much for you,” Dean said, somewhat haltingly, “you don’t have to stay.”

Castiel turned in the circle of Dean’s arms to look at his boyfriend. “What?”

“I just mean, obviously this has been harder on you than you’ve admitted, so if you want out, I don’t blame you. I would just like us to still be friends, at least, if possible.”

“Dean John Winchester,” Castiel said carefully, “I chose you. Yes, this is hard right now, and yes I am a little emotional, but there is nowhere else I would rather be than right here by your side.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked, a small smile on his face.

“Absolutely,” Castiel replied. “Face it, you just have to accept that you are stuck with me now, Winchester.”

Dean smiled a roughish grin at his dark-haired boyfriend, and placed a quick kiss on his lips.

“That’s good,” he replied. “Because, Novak, you are stuck with me, too. I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say that I debated this chapter for a long time. I went back and forth with whether Dean would live or not. In my original plans for the story, there was never a question that the previous chapter was a nightmare, I actually planned for Cas to wake from the nightmare at the end of the chapter, but that didn't work for me when I wrote it. Then, after I wrote it, I started thinking that maybe Dean wouldn't make it, maybe he did actually do the deed.
> 
> After thinking about this carefully, and reading all of your comments, I decided to stick with my original plan. The previous chapter was Cas' nightmare, and this is his realization of that fact.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Thank you all for the awesome comments and for all the kudos. You all definitely make my day brighter. Thank you all for being on this journey.


	15. Tattoos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean fulfills a lifelong wish before getting ready to start his chemo treatments.

Dean and Castiel lay curled around one another, arms and legs entwined to such a degree that neither could tell where one ended and the other began. It took some time, but gradually Castiel’s panic from his nightmare faded and he was more comfortable believing this was real.

The two didn’t talk much, just enjoyed the warmth pouring from the other’s body. Both relished the simple pleasure of small touches and soft kisses. There was something so natural and easy with them being together, they could communicate by reading little facial twitches or eyebrow quirks.

Enjoying the peace and calm, Castiel found his eyes drifting shut. Neither teen knew how long they stayed that way, and neither wanted to break the spell and tumble back to reality. It was too comfortable in the little nest they were sharing together. As he relaxed, the blue-eyed boy became aware of soothing, rumbling vibrations under his cheek: Dean was humming.

“What are you humming?” he asked, lazily.

“Hmm,” Dean responded, sounding half-asleep himself.

Castiel propped himself up on his elbow, his hair sleep mussed and unruly, to Dean he looked utterly adorable. “You were humming something? What was it?”

“I don’t really know,” he admitted. “I wasn’t aware that I was humming.”

“It was nice,” Cas murmured. “You have a lovely voice.”

Dean felt a faint blush come to his cheeks. He wasn’t used to receiving compliments like that, and it made him feel slightly self-conscious. To distract from his embarrassment, Dean reached a hand behind Castiel’s neck and pulled him down until the other boy was practically laying on top of him, and kissed him softly.

They stayed like that for several moments, exploring each other’s mouths and enjoying the comfort of their relationship. When they broke apart, they both were surprised at how much love they saw reflected back from the other. Dean started to speak, he wanted to tell Cas how much he loved him.

“Dean Winchester?!” Ellen yelled from downstairs, rupturing the moment. “You stop making out what that boy of yours and get your skinny ass down here, if you are still going.”

“Aw, shit,” Dean said, scurrying to untangle himself from Cas. Within moments, Dean was throwing on clothes and getting ready to head out the door.

Castiel was still laying, rumpled and sleepy and absolutely delectable. Dean wanted to take a picture to keep with him through the bad times to come, but he knew there wasn’t time for that. He also mentally kicked himself for the sappy feelings, but who could blame him? He was young and in love with an absolutely gorgeous man, he was entitled to a little sap.

“Are we going somewhere, Dean?” Castiel asked, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean said. “When I came in to wake you this morning, I was going to tell you, and then, with everything…” he trailed off, not wanting to bring back bad memories for his boyfriend.

“Ok, so what are we doing?”

“Well, you know that I am going in two weeks to get marked up for my first chemo treatment, right?”

Cas nodded, motion someone shaky at the reminder of how sick his boyfriend was.

“I often thought about getting a tattoo, but my dad was not in favor of real men having ink,” Dean said with a huff. “So, I always chalked it up to something I would never be able to do.”

As Dean talked, Castiel got off the bed and started getting himself dressed. He didn’t know where Dean was going, wherever it was, Cas was going with him. Other people might think he was being overly clingy, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t ready to let Dean out of his sight.

“With the chemo, I have to get tattoo markers inked into my skin to help the doctors and nurses know exactly where to place the catheters and ports,” Dean explained. “And, I got to thinking about it, and I didn’t want my first tattoo to be something that scared the shit out of me. I wanted it to be something that I chose.”

Castiel nodded in acknowledgment, silently prompting the other boy to proceed.

“So, I started talking to Bobby and Ellen and explained that I wanted to get a tattoo,” Dean said, as he and Cas moved in sync toward the door. “We talked about it for a while, and then we talked to Dr. Roberts to make sure this wouldn’t interfere with the treatment, and once he gave us the okay, Bobby and Ellen were onboard.”

“But, I don’t understand,” Castiel said, brow furrowing in his confusion as they made it downstairs. “If you are going to get a tattoo, why is Ellen coming with you?”

“I have to be there to sign the forms,” Ellen said, pushing the boys out the door. “The shop owner’s a friend of Bobby’s, but he wouldn’t do it for Dean being as the boy is under eighteen. To keep everything on the up and up, I have to sign my consent as Dean’s legal guardian.”

As Ellen explained, the boys got buckled into the car and were on the road in short order.

“I wasn’t sure what you would think about this,” Dean said, ducking his head to avoid his boyfriend’s gaze. “I didn’t want to disappoint you, so I didn’t want to tell you until I was ready to have it done.”

“You would never disappoint me, Dean,” Castiel said, linking his hand with Dean’s.

“I’ve been meeting with Rufus, he’s the dude who’s going to give me my ink,” Dean explained. “He took some of my sketches and made it into an awesome design.”

“What are you getting?” Castiel asked, curiosity coloring his tone.

“You’ll have to wait to see.”

About ten minutes later, Ellen’s Jeep pulled up in front of a somewhat homey looking storefront. It was unassuming from the outside, not what Castiel normally would have associated with a tattoo shop: There was no neon sign shouting “Tattoos.” Above the doorpost, there was an understated sign indicating _Details by Turner_.

Walking into the shop, a small bell tinkled above the door, and Castiel’s eyes tried to take in everything in front of him. Dean looked relaxed and at ease, but of course, he had been there several times in the past week preparing for this. To Castiel this was all new. The air was fragrant and rich with the smell of patchouli and cloves. The walls were covered with beautiful sketches, covering a wide variety, from nature to science-fiction. There was a small, comfortable waiting area that contained a beat-up coffee table covered with magazines, and overstuffed couches that looked like they would be better suited to a coffee shop instead of a tattoo parlor. Everything was so warm and inviting that Castiel found himself relaxing and taking a keen interest in everything around him.

“Hey there, Winchester,” a deep, gruff voice sounded from behind Cas.

“Hey Rufus,” Dean returned, easily. “You ready for me?”

“Ready as I’m gonna get,” the older man said, clapping his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Got the design printed on to the transfer paper, Ellen’s signed all the forms she’s gotta sign, and we are ready to go.”

“Awesome,” Dean said, a bright grin lighting up his face, making his eyes sparkle with merriment. “Can’t wait to see how it turned out.”

“Where is Ellen?” Castiel asked, realizing he hadn’t see the other member of their party since they got there.

“Said she had errands to run, and for y’all to call her when we’re done, and she’ll pick you up,” Rufus replied.

Rufus stepped back and flicked his eyes to Castiel. The teenager immediately felt as though he were being sized up by the larger, burly man.

“This yer fella?” Rufus asked.

“Yep,” Dean said, proudly. “Rufus, this is my boyfriend, Castiel. Cas, this is Rufus, who is going to give me a kickass design in honor of my chemo treatments.”

“Nice to meet you,” Castiel said somewhat shyly.

Rufus’ shrewd gaze assessed Castiel once more before he finally grunted out, “You’ll do,” and turned to walk into the back where Dean was waiting.

Not sure if he was supposed to follow or not, Castiel found himself tagging along behind Rufus like a stray kitten. When he got into the back, he found an area that was meticulously clean. There was a cushioned table in the middle of the floor. To one side of the table was a computer that was flashing images of various tattoos, which Cas assumed were some of Rufus’ other works. To the other side of the table, was a medieval looking device that he assumed was what the artist was going to use to apply the ink.

As Castiel got his bearings, Dean proceeded to take off his shirt.

“Where are you getting your design?” Cas asked, settling in to a chair that was by the head of the table.

“On my chest,” Dean responded, “actually, I guess you would say it’s on the pec muscle.”

Before they could talk any further, Rufus walked back in with a piece of paper in hand.

“You wanna see the design first, or you ready for it to be transferred?” Rufus asked.

“Naw, man,” Dean chuckled. “We’ve looked at it so many times the past few days, I’m sure it’s perfect.”

Dean hopped up on the table with an unconscious ease and grace. He settled back, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible as Rufus used a pair of scissors to trim the piece of paper he was holding. Once Rufus was satisfied with what he had in his hands, he peeled the backing off the paper and approached Dean.

“This might be a little cold,” he said. As he spoke, he placed the remaining paper on Dean’s chest, to transfer the image.

Castiel couldn’t see the design at first, but when Rufus stepped away, Castiel gasped. The design was beautiful. It was nothing overly large, it took up approximately half of Dean’s left pectoral; but, it was stunning. The design was of angel wings – spread to envelop and protect. On one wing, entwined in the feathers were the initials “CN,” on the other were twined “SW.”

“Dean,” Castiel breathed.

“You like it Cas?” Dean asked.

“I love it,” Castiel replied. Damn it, he felt like he was going to start to cry again. His emotions were running so close to the surface. He wanted to reach out and stroke the design, but he didn’t want to disrupt Rufus' work, so he held himself back.

“I wanted something that would remind me of the most important people in my life,” Dean said quietly. “That’s why I have yours and Sammy’s initials on the wings.”

The raven-haired boy found himself nodding in agreement, although he wasn’t sure why he was nodding.

“Why angel wings?” he asked.

“Two reasons,” Dean said, unable to meet the other teen’s eyes. “One was because of my mother. I don’t remember much about her, but I remember every night I went to bed, she told me angels were watching over me.”

That was so Dean, Castiel couldn’t help but think. Dean wouldn’t want his mother’s name emblazed on his skin, but he wanted to remember her and have her close to his heart always, so the imagery of a childhood reassurance would be fittingly symbolic of Mary Winchester.

“What’s the other reason?” the older teen asked.

“You,” was the reply.

“Me?” Castiel squeaked.

“My mother told me angels were watching over me,” Dean repeated. “But, I never believed her, not really. How could angels be watching over me if they took her from me? I lost my faith and cursed God and heaven and its angels for taking someone I loved so much from me.”

Castiel bowed his head to try to hide the tears that were pooling in his eyes. Since he and Dean had started their relationship, Dean talked more freely, even more than he did when they were just friends. This, however, was the first time Cas ever heard him talk at length about his mother.

“Then, I met an angel,” Dean continued. “I was too dumb to realize it at first, but I met an angel who definitely looks after me every day.”

Dean paused in his story and looked up at Castiel, who was trying to urge the other boy to continue with his explanation.

“Did you really think, after all these years, that I had never once gotten curious about your name, _Castiel_?” Dean asked. “I did my research, and found that you were named for the angel of Thursday.”

Mouth agape, eyes wide in surprise, Castiel stared at Dean. Discreetly, he pinched himself, just to make sure he was awake.

“So, I came to realize that my mother was right, that angels are real and they are watching over me,” Dean concluded. “Now, I’ll have a reminder of that angel with me every time I look in the mirror. I’ll have that angel with me – at least in some form – throughout every treatment.”

Quickly standing up, almost knocking his chair over in the process, Castiel stood next to Dean and leaned down for a brief, but passionate, kiss, filled with all the love and passion he was feeling.

“Ahem,” the two boys broke apart quickly, both blushing furiously when they remembered they weren’t alone, Rufus was standing there watching them. “Are you two going to let me do my work, or am I going to have to get a hose to keep you apart?”

Instead of responding, Dean just repositioned himself, and Castiel went back to his chair.

“Okay,” Rufus said, “I’m going to do a small test line, just to get you used to the sound and feel of the gun.”

Dean nodded, suddenly looking slightly nervous. To help, Castiel scooted his chair ever closer so he could hold on to his boyfriend’s hand.

The tattoo gun was pressed firmly to Dean’s chest and Rufus pressed his foot down on a pedal and suddenly the gun buzzed to life. Dean didn’t even flinch.

“That okay?” Rufus asked.

“It’s not my favorite thing to do,” Dean retorted, “but I can take it.”

Rufus grinned at the cocky teen and proceed to reposition the needle so he could continue with the tattoo.

*****

An hour and a half later, the design was finished. When Dean first saw the completed ink, he fist pumped and almost hugged Rufus. It turned out even better than he hoped.

“What’ya think, Cas?” Dean asked his boyfriend, who had sat with him the whole time. The three men laughed and joked while Rufus worked, making the time pass even faster. Castiel not only provided a strong, comforting presence to Dean during the process, he held Dean’s hand, grounding him and providing him with a source of added strength when the needle pierced a little too deep (not that Dean would admit it, but those straight lines hurt like a son of a bitch).

Rufus wrapped the fresh ink in plastic wrap, and told Dean to keep it covered for the next several hours. He then instructed the teen on the best after care practices, including what type of ointment to use the first two days, and then the best lotions to use thereafter. Castiel paid careful attention, and Dean had no doubts that his boyfriend would be the one insisting on taking care of the design for the next several days.

As they waited across the street at the coffee shop, sharing a piece of pie and sipping on hot coffee, the boys were content. The day hadn’t started off the best, but it had turned out well. They got to spend the day with each other and that was all they could ask for; just a few days more to forget the treatments that were to come. Yes, they had some hard times to come, but today was almost perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so touched by your response to this story. Thank you so much for sharing on this ride with me. It has been my joy and privilege to share this story with you.
> 
> I wanted to give a lighter, fluffier chapter to break up some of our angst, because (I hate to say it), but things are going to get bad for a while. Also, holy dialogue Batman! I didn't expect this to be so chatty, but it seems like once you get Dean and Cas truly talking, they don't want to shut up :-).
> 
> Just a few quick notes about this chapter: (1) If you are going to get a tattoo, do your research in advance to make sure you are getting it from a well-known and respected shop. When I got my tattoo, I researched for months before I decided on my shop. (2) Regarding tattoos and chemotherapy - there are mixed opinions on this topic. Some doctors and patients advise against it because when you get chemotherapy, your body's immune system is suppressed, so that makes it easier for you to contract an illness. Some doctors say there is no problem with it. I chose to have Dean get a tattoo before the chemotherapy to try to skirt the possible white blood cell/immune system problems.
> 
> As always, I love to hear from you. Let me know what you think.


	16. Radioactive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean receives his first chemotherapy treatment, post-operation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I am a little later than usual with the update. This chapter was a beast to write. I went back and forth about how I wanted to start it, and then once I got going, there was no clear place to end - especially not for where I would like the next chapter to go. So, this is an extra long one. Castiel really isn't in this chapter, it is primarily Dean and Ellen - Cas is mentioned briefly.
> 
> Not really a trigger warning, just a heads up for a lot of Hurt/Sick Dean in this chapter and some language.

Almost in a blink of an eye, four weeks had passed since Dean’s surgery. The teenager still had some abdominal pain at the incision site and had to take it easy in terms of diet (lots of protein shakes and yogurt to keep his white blood cell count high and to be easy on digestion). During his recovery, Dean met weekly with Dr. Roberts to evaluate his recuperation.

At his last visit, the doctor informed Dean they were going to move ahead with the first round of chemotherapy – almost two weeks ahead of schedule. Dean saw Bobby and Ellen exchange a glance out of the corner of his eye, and he bit his bottom lip in contemplation. This couldn’t be good.

“Dean,” Dr. Roberts began, “your last set of MRI’s has revealed we might not have removed as much of the original tumor as we thought. Because your body is not healed enough to risk the infection of a second surgery, we want to move on the earlier timeline and start your chemo sooner rather than later.”

Dean found himself nodding his head in agreement even though there was a voice screaming itself hoarse inside his head _“No, don’t do this…you have to wait.”_ Despite not wanting to let his illness consume him, Dean had read the literature the hospital provided him. He also explored cancer survivor forums, which he found to be an odd sense of comfort. These people would most likely never meet him, but they all shared a common ground in fighting this disease: To know there were other people having the same feelings as he was made him calmer and more confident he could handle this.

Truth was, Dean was terrified. Sure, he put up a good front to Sammy and Cas, and even to Bobby and Ellen, to some extent. However, when he went to close his eyes at night, sleep was becoming more elusive. He began to fear going to sleep because what if that was the last thing he did? What if he never woke back up? He would miss the rain pelting against his window in the middle of the night accompanied by the gentle rumblings of thunder. He would miss the first cold, gray streaks of winter sunshine streaking through his weathered windows. He would miss a chance to see those he loved most. So, most nights he found himself fighting against sleep until exhaustion finally pulled him down.

The night before his first chemotherapy treatment was a particularly bad sleep night. Castiel had begged his mother to let him stay over. Hael already forbid her son from accompanying Dean to his first treatment, but Cas hoped he could at least stay with Dean the night before. For once, his mother put her foot down and said he was going to stay at home to spend time with his grandparents who were visiting from out of state. Dean could have used Cas’ comfort. He considered getting out of bed to read or get ahead on his school work, but couldn’t force his limbs to move. Eventually, he found himself surrendering to sleep.

Bright sunlight filtered across his bed the next morning. He groaned as the rays hit his face and startled him awake. For as much as he fought going to sleep the night before, he was reluctant to open his eyes this morning. If he could just keep them closed maybe he could skip his appointment; maybe he could pretend for another day that he was normal that there wasn’t a disease laying siege to his body, threatening to devour him and make those that loved him watch as his withered and died.

As Dean considered all the ways he could burrow under his covers and try to block out the world, he heard a strong fist thump on his door.

“Up and at ‘em boy,” Ellen called through the door. “You’ve got twenty to get up and moving before we get this show on the road.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbled.

“Don’t you give me no sass, Dean Winchester,” his almost-adoptive mother replied with mock severity.

“No, ma’am,” he replied, more clearly, although accompanied by a small sigh.

It didn’t take Dean long to get ready. He hopped in the shower to get rinsed off and quickly brushed his teeth before going back in his room and picking up a soft gray, short sleeved T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants to go along. Dr. Roberts said the whole process today would take anywhere from two to four hours, so he advised Dean to dress comfortably. The teenager also was bringing his iPod with him – the doctor said having music to listen to would provide a welcome distraction during the process.

Exactly twenty minutes from when Ellen knocked on his door, the two were in the car making their way to St. Mary’s Hospital (no, the irony of the name was not lost on Dean).

During the ride Dean could feel Ellen’s gaze shift to him periodically. He knew she wanted to say something, to ask him if he was okay, but she didn’t want to make him even more nervous or uncomfortable, so she stayed quiet. The young man could have kissed her for that. His thoughts were scattered, he was trying to keep positive, but this was abso-fucking-lutely terrifying.

Once they arrived at the hospital, he got registered at the outpatient desk fairly quickly. There weren’t many people in the waiting room at this time of morning, so they didn’t have long to wait before they were called back.

For the first day of treatment, the process was going to take slightly longer than it would going forward. Dr. Roberts was a conservative physician in many ways, but with Dean’s type of cancer, he believed a slightly more aggressive course of action was required. What they had decided on for the chemotherapy was they would start Dean with a treatment once a week for three weeks, a rest period to allow his body to recover for two weeks, and then another three week treatment series. At the end of the eight-week cycle, they would do another P.E.T scan and MRI to determine if the tumor was completely gone or if they needed to consider more chemotherapy and/or additional surgery. Much of what would happen after the first round of medicine depended upon how Dean’s body responded to the drugs.

To make sure Dean was absorbing the maximum benefit of the medication, Dr. Roberts chose to use an intravenous method. This meant either that Dean was going to get hooked up to an IV each time he came to the hospital, which the doctor promptly ruled out. Because Dean would be more prone to bruising and infections as the drugs attacked the cancer, they decided inserting a new IV each time would only increase potential complications. Instead they decided Dean would have a port called a PICC line inserted into his arm. The PICC line needed to be inserted as a quasi-surgical procedure. Once it was in place, the nurse administering the chemotherapy would only need to place a medicinal cartridge into the PICC line to begin the week’s treatment.

Installing the PICC line was scheduled to take between thirty to ninety minutes. Dean knew he was in danger of violating his own code of “no chick flick moments,” but at this point, he let himself be a scared teenager facing something he never could have imagined. So, in this moment, he grabbed Ellen’s hand and clutched it tight and asked her to please come with him. She smiled wanly back at him and squeezed his hand, nodding her assent.

The two were escorted back to the prep area. Dean had to strip out of his T-shirt and lay flat on the hospital bed. The bed itself already had been prepared for him. The white covers were pristine, almost snowy looking, and were tucked with military efficiency into tight corners. Dean smirked to himself thinking he probably could bounce a quarter off those sheets with as tightly as they were tucked in.

Once Dean was situated on the bed with his shirt off, his nurse for the day, Barbara, proceeded to drape another sheet over him.

“We have to make sure everything is as sterile and secure as possible,” she explained before turning to review the implements laid out on the table next to him.

Dean blanched when he saw everything. His heart rate picked up, no, no, no, he couldn’t do this. He was supposed to be in school, going to dances with his boyfriend, stressing about tests and how much of a dick Mr. Bentley was. This wasn’t supposed to be his story. He wasn’t supposed to be the “cancer kid.” That surely was someone else’s role, right?

“Breathe, Dean,” Barbara advised, as Ellen came over to smooth his hair in an effort to soothe him. “It’s going to be alright, but the more worked up you are, the harder this is going to be.”

He tried to breathe out, but felt the panic welling up inside him again.

“Remember those yoga exercises yer fella taught you?” Ellen asked, her hand never ceasing its gentle caress on Dean’s hair. He nodded jerkily in acknowledgement. “Try to do that now, baby. Count your breaths, focus only on that, try to block everything else out.”

_Yeah, right_ , Dean thought with malice. _Easy for her to say_. But, he knew he had to calm down or else they were going to have to sedate him, which was going to make the whole process take even longer. _Fine._

Closing his eyes so he could avoid looking at the torture implements that were going to be used, Dean focused to control his breathing, just as Castiel had taught him.

_“Breathe in through your nose, Dean,” he heard Cas instruct him. “Breathe in and press your tongue to the roof of your mouth as you do so. Breathe in for a count of three: one…two…three.”_ Dean did as his memory of Castiel instructed. _“Now, purse your lips and blow out like you are blowing into a small straw. Control your air flow for the same three count: one…two…three.”_ Dean followed the second step and continued to repeat Cas’ instructions.

After a few times, his breathing had slowed and he was extending his breath count from three to four. It wasn’t until he was able to make it to a count of five that he felt safe and calm enough to open his eyes. When he did, he found Ellen in the same position she was, and he saw Nurse Barbara had fresh gloves on her hands and a sterile mask covering her mouth and nose.

“OK, Dean,” Barbara instructed. “I’m going to get started. I need you to keep as calm as possible. Mrs. Singer, you are going to have to move away from him at this point. We need everything to be as sterile as possible.”

Ellen levelled her fiercest glare at the slightly portly nurse, but the other woman was unfazed. There was no way she was letting an overprotective mother interfere with the PICC line placement.

During the next forty-five minutes, Barbara worked as efficiently as she could. She had to ensure the port was inserted correctly into the meat of Dean’s forearm. Once the line was inserted, she had to take the young Winchester to the radiology department so they could use the CT scanner. The port was in place (where they actually would put the chemotherapy cartridges); however, there was a thin catheter line that had to be inserted into the PICC line that needed to be placed close to Dean’s heart. The placement of this catheter was critical; if it wasn’t placed correctly, the treatment would not be as effective, and there would be a greater risk of infections and stress on Dean’s heart.

Barbara didn’t talk much during the process, but she was able to get the line inserted and functional as quickly as possible. Dean felt mild discomfort as she was performing the task, but it wasn’t anything unbearable.

As soon as the PICC line was in place, Barbara wheeled Dean back to his room where he was able to put his shirt back on. From there, he and Ellen were escorted to the “Chemotherapy Lounge.” This is where he was going to be spending the bulk of his time. Once the medicine was inserted into his port, Dean would have to sit in the lounge for thirty minutes until the full dosage of medicine was dispensed through his system. He then would need to remain in the hospital for another forty-five minutes to an hour after the treatment was completed. This was the doctors could monitor him to ensure he wouldn’t suffer from seizures, heart attack, fever, or other infection.

Nurse Barbara got him settled into a somewhat comfy green overstuffed chair and made him prop up his feet. She said this would be best for getting his circulation going and to make sure that he didn’t suffer any blood clots during the treatment – yeah, that was comforting. Before she went to get the chemotherapy cocktail that he was prescribed, she gave him a pill to take to reduce the nausea. She said patients find taking the pill before treatment helps with the severity of the nausea and cramping afterward.

Seeing that Dean was as comfortable as he was going to be, the kindly nurse proceeded to insert the first chemotherapy cartridge into Dean’s new port. At first, Dean didn’t feel anything. Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad.

_Holy motherfuckingshit!_

Three minutes into the treatment, Dean felt fire pouring into his veins. As the medicine was circulating through his body, the chemicals were searing their way through him. He felt as though he just stood next to the hottest bonfire he had ever made or like he just drank a gallon of boiling hot lava. It burned so God damn bad that Dean almost was gasping for air.

There was no end to the burning, it kept spreading as more was dispersed from the port into his body. It pooled low in his stomach and made his muscles clench against the sensation. He felt sweat begin to dot his brow and he would have given anything at that moment for a glass of water.

“Dean, you okay, sweetie,” Ellen asked in concern. She could see how pale Dean had gotten, his breathing was more labored, and his eyes were wide and watering in pain. “Dean talk to me!”

“Hurts…..fire,” he was able to pant out.

Ellen was up on her feet and running into the hall quicker than a rabbit. Within moments, his mother-figure was returning with a different nurse.

“Dean,” the nurse said. “Talk to me. Tell me what you are feeling? How bad is your pain on a scale of one to ten?”

“Hurts,” Dean choked out. “Fire, pooling, in my, stomach…unnnnnhhh.” His last words trailed off into a moan.

“What is your pain level?” the nurse repeated.

“Nine,” Dean replied. He always considered himself to have a very high tolerance for pain, but this was unbelievable.

The nurse quickly left the lounge and returned within moments carrying another syringe. She injected the contents of the container directly into Dean’s port. Ten minutes later, the pain had eased and Dean was wiping errant tears off his face.

He threw a glance at Ellen and saw while her expression seemed stony, her eyes were brimming with sadness. Dean knew she saw both Winchesters as her own boys. Bobby and Ellen had married later in life. Ellen had a daughter to her first marriage, but lost the baby before her first birthday – destroyed the relationship with her husband, and they divorced shortly thereafter.

The despair she felt at losing her daughter convinced Ellen she never wanted to go through that again, so she never remarried and never had children. When she and Bobby finally got married, they both considered themselves too old to have children of their own. Fate has a funny way of working, though, and she again found herself as a mother – this time to two high-spirited boys. Dean couldn’t even imagine what she must be feeling at this point to watch him go through this treatment.

Once the pain subsided to the point where Dean could talk, and the new nurse had left to allow the drugs to continue their course, he looked up at Ellen and said, “Why don’cha go to the cafeteria and get whatever they serve that passes as coffee around here and maybe some lunch. Just ‘cause I can’t eat or drink anything doesn’t mean you can’t.”

Because of the risk of nausea, Dr. Roberts recommended Dean not eat or drink much before the treatment. After, Dean could eat broths and Jell-O, light foods that would soothe his stomach. He also would be able to drink clear juices and water at that time.

“You aren’t fooling anyone, kiddo,” she stated. “I ain’t going nowhere.”

Knowing winning an argument with the stubborn streak of Ellen Harvelle-Singer was practically a lost cause, Dean closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He would have to remember to thank Cas for these particular techniques.

The green-eyed teenager must have been more exhausted than he thought, because it felt like a moment later there was a gentle hand on his shoulder telling him it was time to wake up. Dean blinked somewhat groggily and tried to remember where he was. Hospital, right. He was so tired; he felt like there were sandbags attached to his eyelids trying to drag his eyes shut.

He felt the nurse tug briefly at his arm to remove the cartridge and then she was presenting him with a cup with ice chips.

“Take one at a time and suck on them slowly,” Barbara instructed. “We want you to start getting some fluids in you, but we want to go slowly so as not to shock your system too much.”

Dean nodded and let his eyes drift close again.

He didn’t know how long he sat there before his eyes flew open in a panic. He felt terrible. Dean heard people in stories talk about turning green when they got sick, and he always thought it was a joke – some sort of hyperbole to aid in storytelling – at this moment, he realized it was absolutely true. He felt his skin turn green, bile churning and rising in his gullet. He had to find a bathroom and soon.

Barbara happened to enter the room right as Dean started casting his wild gaze around in search of a bathroom. Knowing he probably didn’t have time to make it, she grabbed the nearest trash can and placed it in front of him, with only a second to spare. Shoulders heaving, stomach muscles clenching and cramping painfully, Dean found himself retching miserably into the trash can. It was a like a geyser – it was like that scene in _The Exorcist_ when Linda Blair throws up the pea soup – only this felt a thousand times worse. Not only was his stomach roiling and tightening, his throat was burning from the force of the vomit as it was expelled.

This could have gone on for minutes or hours for all Dean knew. Finally, it seemed to stop and he fell back into the chair, utterly spent.

“Are you okay, baby?” Ellen asked.

No, he really wasn’t, but he had a feeling this was as good as it was going to get, so he nodded that he was fine.

After that initial reaction, Dean didn’t seem to have any other violent problems. Dr. Roberts came by and explained that Dean most likely would feel complete exhaustion and have little to know energy for 24 to 48 hours.

“If, at any point during that time, he spikes a fever above 101⁰, or he starts vomiting blood, you call me immediately and bring him into the hospital,” the doctor explained to Ellen. “Also, he probably won’t feel much like eating, but try to get him to eat soft foods, or at least drink the protein shakes. For the most part he probably is going to be out of it for the rest of today.”

Dean really wasn’t sure what was being said anymore. He felt like he was sleepwalking, or maybe he was a zombie. His legs felt leaden, his arms wouldn’t obey him for simple tasks. He actually felt himself be forced into a wheelchair and pushed out to the car. He would be mortified, if he wasn’t so damn tired.

The exhausted boy slept the entire ride home. Once they pulled into the driveway, Ellen had Bobby come out to the car and the older man practically carried Dean up the stairs and into his bedroom. If Dean had been cognizant of what was going on, he would have noticed Sam sitting in the living room, a look of horror and fear marring his young face as he watched his frail, worn out brother be dragged up the steps to his bed.

Bobby took care to navigate Dean safely up the stairs, and then laid him gently on the bed. Ellen was only a few paces behind. The Singers decided not to remove Dean’s clothing, but did take off his sneakers and socks. Bobby, in a rare display of affection, ruffled Dean’s hair as though he were six again; and, Ellen pulled the covers up over her boy’s sleeping form and tucked them around him gently. She pressed a soft kiss goodnight on his forehead before she and Bobby left the room. It was going to be a sleepless night for both adults as they would be up to check on Dean’s temperature throughout the night; but, they hoped their son could at least get some rest.

The youth in question remained blissfully unaware of everything that went on around him. He found himself lulled into a hard, dreamless sleep utterly spent from the events of the day, and knowing that it probably was going to get worse before it got better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: My mother has been an invaluable resource for me during the writing of this fiction. She doesn't have cancer, but she is a liver transplant recipient. Whenever I am thinking about doing anything with a medical procedure, I always run it by her first to see what exactly happens during it. Her advice was super helpful when it came to the parts with the PICC line. I am so grateful to her that our friendly nurse, Barbara, is named after her.
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for your beautiful comments. I enjoy hearing from you. Please let me know what you like, what you don't like, what you think is going to happen. I had a plan going into this, but I am not so sure that is going to be where we end up after all. We'll have to see :-).


	17. Tears At The Birthday Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean celebrates a big day and gets a few surprises along the way.

Dean couldn’t remember ever being so exhausted. Dr. Roberts hadn’t been kidding when he said the chemotherapy treatments would take a lot of him. The teenager was trying to maintain his stamina by taking the protein shake supplements that Bobby and Ellen bought for him, but nothing seemed to give him much of a boost.

In between his treatments, Dean was also trying to find the energy to complete his coursework from school. His teachers were being awesome to let him do the work from home, but he still had to go in at least once a week to take any tests his classmates had. Also, as an added assessment since he couldn’t attend classes, Dean had to have individual sessions with his teachers to answer their questions about the work. He also had the chance to ask any questions of his own for things that might not have been clear through the written instructions.

He was trying to be brave and strong throughout the ordeal, but Dean could feel the cracks in his own composure. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was burdening his loved ones. Everyone was so patient with him, and he just felt like he wasn’t enough. He wanted to be normal again so he could play more than five minutes of Mario Kart with Sam before having to take a break. Dean wanted to be able to take Castiel out on a regular date. Considering the two boys acknowledged their relationship only when Dean got sick, they hadn’t been able to do a lot that normal couples got to do.

The positive in this otherwise crap-fest, was Dean officially was done with his first three-week cycle of treatment. He had two full weeks to recover some of his strength and maybe be able to keep from going to that infernal hospital.

This morning when Dean got out of bed, he felt the best he had in weeks. There still was some discomfort in his stomach, and his stitches itched like a bitch, but he wasn’t in the excruciating pain he had before the surgery. He still was underweight, going through the chemo treatments, he often couldn’t eat a lot at meals. Most times what he did eat the day of and after his procedure, he usually ended up sharing with the toilet.

Preparing for his shower, Dean took a quick look at himself in the mirror. The scar from his surgery still was an angry red line slicing through the otherwise tanned flesh on his stomach. He knew he always would have the scar, but over time it would fade so it wasn’t quite so prominent. For now, it was a stark visual reminder of how much his body had to go through. From his reflection, Dean could easily identify the bones for his ribs – not as much as he could right after the surgery, but he still had work to do. He also needed to start sleeping better, his normally sparkling forest green eyes were duller than usual, and seemed even flatter because of the purpling bruises underneath his eyes from lack of sleep.

Dean sighed. He was a mess, and he knew it. The other thing he knew was he was a fighter and he was going to keep fighting so long as he had people who loved and supported him.

After taking a quick shower, Dean started rifling through his clothes to see what he was going to wear for the day when the smell wafted into his room. Oh my God, that smell was mouthwatering. It was rich and smelled of cream and cinnamon and sugar and….maple syrup? Throwing on a battered Batman T-shirt and a pair of jeans, Dean found himself sprinting downstairs with more energy than he’d had in a while.

That delicious smell was coming from the kitchen (of course it was Dean, where else would it be coming from, his subconscious chided him). He walked in and abruptly stopped. Standing around the breakfast bar in the kitchen were Bobby, Gabriel, Sam, and Castiel. Ellen was standing over the stove loading up plates with the fluffiest looking pancakes he’d ever seen. He also saw Ellen had perfect looking scrambled eggs and crispy bacon. He had to check to make sure he wasn’t drooling down his face at the wonderful looking – and smelling – food. This was amazing! And a bonus, he actually was hungry for the first time in forever.

Clearing his throat to alert everyone to his presence, he walked further into the kitchen. “Hey guys, what’s the occasion? Did I miss something?”

Everyone turned to stare at him, mouths agape in shock. Dean tried to check himself discreetly. Had he left toothpaste on his mouth? Did he grow another head and didn’t realize it while he was showering?

“Dean,” Ellen said in exasperation, “what date is it?”

The green-eyed teen thought about that for a minute. Days just seemed to run together for him. With not going to school daily, he tended to lose track of what date and day it was.

“ _Shit!_ ” he thought to himself. _“Obviously there is something important going on today and I forgot. What could it be? I don’t remember anyone telling me anything.”_

When his silence stretched on too long, he thought he heard Bobby mutter “Idjit” under his breath, but it was Sammy who saved his big brother from embarrassment.

“It’s your birthday, jerk,” Sam explained. “You turn eighteen today; so, happy birthday big brother.”

A chorus of “happy birthdays” rang out from the other members of the kitchen as well. Dean blushed. His dad never had been big on celebrating birthdays, so more than one January 24th came and went without Dean hearing anything from his Dad. To be the center of attention, even for this little group, made Dean slightly self-conscious.

Sensing his boyfriend’s insecurity, Castiel walked over and gave him a kiss on the lips, and then took his hand and led him to the table.

“Come on, Dean,” the shorter boy said as he sat Dean down at the table. “Ellen really went all out.”

Dean surveyed all his favorite foods, and even though he felt hungry, he was overwhelmed at what he saw. He hadn’t really been able to eat properly in a while, and he worried if he ate, he was going to make himself sick.

“Just eat what you want,” Ellen advised. “Take a small amount of everything if you want, skip certain things all together. Whatever you want, is fine.”

Dean took a plate and took a pancake, a small scoop of fluffy eggs, and a piece of bacon and started to eat. As soon as he tried the first bite of pancake, he had to bit the inside of his cheek to stop the moan that threatened to come out. It was so yummy.

Not wanting to get sick, Dean tried to eat slowly. The small rag-tag family sat around the table and told stories. Sammy told some blackmail worthy stories from when Dean was younger that had the older Winchester wanting to crawl under the table, and had everyone else roaring in laughter.

“You shoulda seen his face when I caught him with that book,” Sam chortled heartily, relating when he walked in on Dean reading _Twilight_. “I think he wanted the bed to swallow him whole.”

“It’s an underrated classic,” Dean mumbled under his breath. “The books are much better than the movies.”

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel said, mischief sparkling in his sapphire eyes. He patted his boyfriend in a placating gesture, “We all know you just didn’t like the movies because you couldn’t chose between Taylor Lautner and Robert Pattinson.”

Dean’s face burned scarlet and he ducked his head. “ _Et tu,_ Castiel,” he cracked, pulling a pretend dagger out of his heart.

Everyone helped clean up after breakfast, except for Dean – as the birthday boy – and Ellen, who had done all the cooking.

Each person had gotten Dean a small gift. They all knew he wasn’t one for oodles of presents, but they wanted to each get him something significant that would be meaningful to him.

Sam got Dean a small amulet made of bronze.

“The shop owner told me it was made in a Tibetan monastery,” Sam explained. “Supposedly it is good ‘juju’ to have with you when recovering from an illness. I just thought it looked pretty badass.”

Dean chuckled at the curse that came from his younger brother, and slipped the leather cord around his neck.

“Thank you, Sammy,” he said sincerely. “I love it.”

Castiel bought Dean a first edition copy of Kurt Vonnegut’s _Slaughter House Five_ that he was able to find for a song on eBay. Dean simultaneously wanted to weep in joy, kiss Cas senseless, and shoo everyone away so he could re-read his favorite book.

Gabe gave Dean a Ken doll with a shaved head.

"Didn't want you to feel so all alone if you would happen to lose your hair after everything, Deanie Beanie," Gabe said with a smirk, although his eyes looked concerned, afraid he had taken the joke too far.

The table held a collective breath, waiting to see what Dean would say. Dean could feel tension radiating in Castiel, as the darker-haired boy's shoulders tensed, coiled ready to spring at his brother for his insensitivity. Dean, however, saw it for what it was...a way to lighten the mood.

"Awww, Gabbikins, how sweet," Dean snarked back. "But that ruins the surprise I had for your birthday. I was trying to find a doll that was short enough to compare to you."

Everyone chuckled and the tension seemed to ease. Although Dean acknowledged privately that Gabriel skirted a line in going too far, he also appreciated it. Everyone was being so careful with him, trying so hard not to remind him of what was going on, he was glad that Gabe was at least trying for a sense of normal.

Ellen and Bobby bought Dean a model car kit, so he could build his own car.

“It’s not like coming into the shop to work,” Bobby explained to the burgeoning mechanic, “but, it will give you something to play around with for when you do decide to get your ass healthy enough to come back to work for me.”

Ellen hit Bobby upside the head for that comment, causing the three boys to cackle with mad laughter. Dean might even have coughed under his breath “whipped.” But, if either of the Singers heard, no further comment was made.

Gifts having been given, the small group was relaxing in the living room, enjoying each other’s company when a knock sounded at the door.

“Who the hell could that be?” Bobby grumbled, looking askance to his wife as he stood up and walked to the hallway.

“No idea,” Ellen replied. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

The four boys all shook their heads, indicating they didn’t know who could be at the door either.

Ellen and the boys started talking about new movies that were coming out, so it was a few minutes before they realized Bobby hadn’t come back from answering the door.

“I hope that old coot didn’t get stuck talking to the Girl Scouts again,” Ellen sighed in mock anger. “Last time they hit him up for cookie sales, I came home to fifteen boxes of thin mints in my kitchen; swore he was going to put himself into diabetic shock.”

They all chuckled, knowing Bobby’s notorious love of sweets. The easy rapport and good mood in the room shattered when they heard Bobby’s voice raising in anger. Ellen looked concerned.

“Stay here, boys,” she commanded. “I’m gonna see what’s going on.”

The three teens sat tensely on the couch. They wanted to go to see what was going on, but at the same time they didn’t want to get anyone mad at them. When they heard the _whoosh-click_ of Ellen cocking her rifle, they couldn’t hold themselves back, and all three boys went tumbling into the hall.

At first they couldn’t see who was standing in the doorway: Bobby was blocking the entrance, his posture tense and unrelenting, blocking the stranger from entering into the house. Ellen was standing, still as a statue, right over her husband’s shoulder. Her gun was raised and trained on the new person – she was every bit a protective mother bear at this point, and no one was getting in to hurt her cubs (even if her cubs were all teenagers).

The two Novaks and the two Winchesters still were too far away to hear much, but snippets of the conversation started to float back to them.

“The hell are you thinking…” Bobby said, fury radiating from his tone.

“You don’t deserve to be here,” this from Ellen.

“No, you don’t get to do that,” from Bobby again. “Not ever, but especially not today.”

Growing braver, the quartet edged closer to try to hear a little more of what was going on.

“Hard for _you_?” Ellen said in horror. “You selfish, arrogant prick…do you even care about anyone but yourself?”

“How the hell was that doing what was best?” Bobby wasn’t even trying to be quiet, his voice was raising in volume and intensity.

“It would have been best to do this years ago,” Ellen stated, no less furious than her husband. “Waiting this long just left scars and emotional burdens that didn’t need to be there.”

“No, I don’t…” Bobby trailed off as a hand came around the corner and pushed against him slightly.

That little push was just enough for the stranger to be able to cross over the threshold to the house. It was seconds later that the boys witnessing this exchange were able to see who was there. All four had their mouths drop open in mutual shock. Typically, it was Dean who regained his voice first.

_“Dad?”_ he breathed, unable to process what he was seeing.

“Hello son,” John Winchester replied with an easy smile. “Happy birthday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone doing okay? I haven't seen anyone calling for my head on a stake, yet, so I guess you guys don't hate me too much :-).
> 
> We are past the halfway point - we have some more highs and lows to come.
> 
> As always, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for all your wonderful comments and kudos. I appreciate it more than I can say. Thank you for sticking around to see how this little piece comes together.


	18. Father to Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place immediately after the last chapter. John and Dean have a birthday talk and Dean gets a present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Use of homophobic language and John being an asshole.
> 
> As with most chapters, I start out with a vague idea of where I want to go, and things just kind of develop from there, and not always in the way I would have thought originally.

Dean blinked several times and felt his mouth open and close to try to find words, but nothing would come out. His emotions were swirling inside of him like a torrent. He was happy to see the man who always had been larger-than-life in Dean’s opinion; yet, at the same time, John’s arrival seemed to put a damper on the day. Everyone was tense and on high alert – except maybe John himself – worried about what John was going to do.

“Couldn’t let the day go without stopping to see ya, Kiddo,” John said, pushing his way further into the Singers’ house. “Not ev’ry day my first born becomes a man.”

Dean swallowed reflexively, he didn’t know what to say. Something didn’t seem quite right with this, his father didn’t seem to be drunk, but at the same time why would he be showing up now? Why not after Dean’s surgery, or after the first chemo treatments? Did John even know what Dean had been going through? The green-eyed teenager tried to gather his scattered thoughts, he needed to be strong, he needed to compose himself.

Around him, his family was taking defensive stances. Both Sam and Castiel moved slightly so they were in front of Dean – creating a barrier between the older two Winchesters. Gabriel hung back slightly so that he was standing beside Dean, ready to leap in front of him if needed, but providing steady support, and ready to back up Sam and Castiel, if needed. Ellen hadn’t released her death grip on her gun, and looked tempted to use it to shoot John in the back and not feel any remorse about it. Bobby had a deep scowl etched on his face and looked like he was forcibly holding back any comments he wanted to make so as not to ruin Dean’s special day.

“Hey Sammy,” John said, stepping forward to ruffle his youngest’s head. “Hair’s getting’ a little long, boy, might want to cut it before people start mistaking you for a _Samantha_.”

John chuckled heartily at his own joke, even though no one else in the room so much as cracked a smile. Sam’s hazel eyes blazed with anger at his father with no hint of forgiveness.

“What are you doing here, _John_?” the youngest Winchester asked, forgoing any hint of politeness.

John bristled at the disrespect evident in his son’s tone. “Don’t you talk to me like that, boy. I am your damned father and you will show me respect.”

“You’re not my father, remember?” Sam said snidely, not caring what he said. He was so mad at John for ditching him and Dean when they needed him most. Now, his father…no, John, had to show up on one of the few truly happy days they had in months and cast a shadow everything. “You decided you didn’t want to be a father anymore. Signed over your custody to Bobby and Ellen here.”

John’s face darkened with anger at the naked hostility Sam was projecting, “Now you listen to me, Samuel Winchester…”

“Dad, stop,” Dean said, shaking himself from the stupor he had fallen into since first setting his eyes on John again.

The older Winchester brother stepped forward, removing the human barriers of his brother, boyfriend, and whatever Gabe was to come face-to-face with his father.

“What do you want, Dad?” Dean asked, fatigue and resignation peeking through his tone.

John looked between his two boys, emotions rapidly playing across his face as he wanted to push the issue with his youngest, but he also came there for a reason, so he decided to let it drop, for now.

“Came to see you, Dean,” John repeated.

“You haven’t celebrated my birthday in years. Why now?” Dean tried not to let the hurt seep into his tone. It always stung that John didn’t celebrate his birthday, it always made him feel small and unimportant. Other kids at school would talk about birthday parties their parents threw for them, but Dean never had that experience – until this year with Bobby and Ellen.

“You’re a man now,” his father said slowly, as though he were talking to a small child. “Have something for you.”

Dean chewed his bottom lip nervously. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something just seemed off with this whole situation.

“OK,” he said, starting to feel drained, emotionally and physically. “What did you want to give me?”

John shook his head. “I’d like it to be in private – you know between father and son.”

Dean could feel Sam and Cas tense on either side of him, but part of him thought if he just did what his father wanted, he would leave faster, and they could get on with the rest of their day.

“Alright,” Dean agreed, even though he saw the look of hurt and fear in his brother’s eyes. Dean caught Gabriel's eye and the two agreed that the shorter Novak would watch over Sam and Cas until Dean came back, just to make sure they didn't do anything too stupid. “Let’s go into the living room, if that’s okay with Bobby and Ellen.”

Ellen looked like she was ready to chew John out, but Bobby stepped in and said, “Sure, son, we’ll just go wait in the kitchen until yer ready for us.”

Dean nodded gratefully at his surrogate father-figure, John opened his mouth to reply, but Dean led him into the other room.

Once away from the others, Dean felt even more exposed and vulnerable. He didn’t know what John wanted, or if this was some kind of sick joke he was playing. They stood, only a few feet separating them, and assessed each other. They practically were strangers to each other. Dean had spent his entire life blindly following his father’s commands, never questioning what he was told to do. The last few months had taught the younger man that probably wasn’t a normal father to son relationship. It wasn’t what he had with Bobby. Of course, Bobby wasn’t his biological father, but the older man had taken on a lot of parental responsibilities.

Head spinning with the emotions and thoughts that were assailing him, Dean had to sit down.

“What?” John asked, mockingly. “You spend a few months with the Singers and you’re already out of shape? Need to get you training again, boy.”

John always insisted his boys be in peak form. He wanted them to be ready to defend themselves against whatever may come their way. He claimed it was because if their mother had been prepared, she never would have been killed. Dean was never sure that was the real reason.

“Not outta shape, Dad,” Dean explained wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, trying to stave off a headache. “It’s the chemo, makes me really tired, really fast.”

His dad scoffed at that, as though he didn’t accept it as the real reason, but made no further comment on it, for the time being.

“I don’t have a lotta time to be here,” the eldest Winchester stated. “But, I wanted to give you this.”

Dean looked up and saw his father extending a small box that looked like it came from a jewelry store. He took it from his father – trying to keep his fingers from shaking, he couldn’t betray any additional weaknesses – and opened it up to reveal a silver band; it looked like a wedding band. The teen looked up at his father, questioning with his eyes what he had just received.

“It was your Mom’s,” John said in explanation. “Well, actually, it was your grandmother’s. Your Mom inherited it when your grandmother died. She kept it in a safety deposit box. I don’t know why she never wanted to wear it, but she always intended for you to get it when you turned eighteen. So, I wanted to make sure you got it.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. He had so little of his mother – a few pictures that had survived all their moves, and a Ray Bradbury book that had _Mary Campbell_ written in flowing cursive on the inside cover. To have this piece of his mother was something indescribable. But, Dean also felt hurt. His Dad wasn’t here to see him, not really. He was here to do a duty; something he had promised Mary he would do.

“Th-thanks, Dad,” he eventually stammered out, slipping the ring onto his right ring finger. “I will cherish it always.”

John nodded curtly, looking uncertain of what else he was supposed to say.

“Things going good for you, then? You back at school? Got a special someone?”

Dean looked up and narrowed his eyes. Did his Dad really care, or did he feel obligated to ask? Either way, it seemed like the older man was trying, and Dean wanted to badly to have his father’s approval.

“I’m hanging in,” Dean answered slowly, trying to downplay how bad the chemo really was. He didn’t want his father to think he was weak for how sick the treatments made him. “I’m going to school through correspondence at this point. The doctor doesn’t want me near too many people for fear of infection.”

The younger man took a deep breath before answering the last part of the question. He never really had dated anyone, so the issue of his being gay had never been something he had to discuss with his Dad. He wasn’t sure exactly how John would take the news – they never really talked about sexuality too much. In fact, his father never gave him _the talk_ , his eighth grade gym teacher had done that duty. Several years later, Dean used that knowledge to give Sammy his own version.

“And, yeah,” Dean said shyly, not meeting his father’s piercing gaze, “I’m seeing someone.”

“Atta boy,” John enthused. “Chip off the old block being able to pick up the ladies even when you look like death warmed over.”

Dean winced at the harsh assessment of his appearance. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Deep breath, “You’ve already met,” the boy supplied.

“What do you mean?” John asked, eyebrows gathering together in confusion. “You never introduced me to any of your girlfriends. Can’t say I know who you mean.”

_Breathe in: One…two… three_ … “I’m dating, Castiel, Dad.” _Breathe out: One… two… three._

Dead silence fell over the room, deafening to the younger Winchester. Dean felt his heart beat accelerate and his breath come in choppier gasps. He didn’t dare look up to see what emotions were playing on his father’s face.

“I don’t think I heard you correctly,” John stated after several minutes of silence. His voice overly controlled and stiff, like he was fighting to keep his anger in check. “It sounded to me like you said you were dating Castiel Novak. Another boy.”

_Breathe in: One…two…three…_ “Yes, Dad, I am. I’m gay.” _Breathe out:……_

Dean never got a chance to continue his exercise. John Winchester eliminated the space between them in a heartbeat. He pulled Dean up by the scruff of his neck and dangled his son in front of him, eyes glittering with hatred and rage.

“There is no way in hell I heard you correctly boy,” he snarled at his eldest son. “I didn’t bust my ass all these years to raise a fuckin’ fairy.”

Dean tried to respond, but John’s fingers were digging into this windpipe, bruising his skin, which was even more prone to bruising because of his medications. The boy thrashed weakly trying to break John’s hold. One minute his father was holding him up as though he was going to choke the life out of him, the next minute he dropped the teenager as though he were something distasteful that could contaminate his skin.

“Dad,” Dean wheezed, trying to explain.

“Don’t _Dad_ me,” John hissed, temper rising again. “Since when have you decided to take it up the ass? Huh, Dean? Is this Bobby and Ellen’s doing? They teach you it’s okay to be a cock sucking faggot?”

“No,” Dean began again.

“No,” John repeated viciously. “So you think you can just bend over and take it from anyone and that’s okay?”

“I love Cas,” Dean choked out.

John’s face mottled red and white with pure violence at that point. Dean tried to stand up to be at a level with his father, but his legs were too weak. The day had put too much strain on his already weakened body, and he couldn’t move fast enough.

_Crack!_ The first punch landed on Dean’s left cheekbone. His head whipped back from the force, causing him to hit the back of his head on one of Ellen’s end tables. The teenager could feel blood starting to drip from his nose. Bleeding injuries were a concern for him now with his white cell count so low – his body wasn’t able to heal as well as it normally would and, what’s more, the treatment thinned his blood meaning he would lose even more than he normally would from a regular injury.

_Whump!_ The second blow was a kick to Dean’s ribs, right above where his incision from his surgery.

In his weakened state, the two blows were hard enough to make Dean start to see black dots in front of his vision.

“You are worthless,” he could hear John yell, his voice coming as though from a distance. “Useless piece of cock sucking whore. Wish you would have died before you were ever born. Woulda saved me eighteen years of wasted time.”

Each sentence was punctuated with another blow – a kick to the stomach, one to the chest.

Dean knew the next hit was going to rob him of consciousness, and at this point it would be a relief. He braced himself for the blow, but it never came.

_BANG!!!!_ A shot rang out, overly loud in the otherwise quiet house. Dean heard his father let out a sharp grunt of pain.

“John Winchester,” Ellen said, colder and angrier than Dean had ever heard in his life. “You have ten seconds to get your sorry ass the hell outta my house and never to return.”

“You’ve turned this boy into a fuckin’ queer. He’s nothing to me, now.”

_BANG!!!!_ The second shot rang, closer than the first, but even more accurate in its target.

“You get gone and don’tcha never come back,” Ellen snarled.

“I ever see you around my boys again, and no one will ever find yer body, Winchester,” Bobby growled.

John looked at his one-time friends in disgust. He looked down at the broken form of his oldest, his first born, and spit right in Dean’s face.

“You can have him,” John spat. “I don’t got time in my life for trash.”

With that, John Winchester walked out of the door, leaving his son bleeding and crying dejectedly on the floor. Bloodied by John’s own hands and fists.

As soon as the other man was out of the room, Castiel and Sam came flying in. Gabe was standing back uncertainty flitting across his face, not sure if he should remain with his brother and friends, or if he should give them privacy. Sam held his older brother’s hand, not wanting to touch anywhere else for fear of causing pain. Cas wasn’t even thinking, he just scooped his desolate boyfriend into his arms and started rocking him gently back and forth – trying to provide as much contact as possible.

Bobby went out into the hallway, and watched to make sure John Winchester truly was gone. Ellen went the opposite direction to grab her purse and keys.

“C’mon boys,” she commanded. “We’ve gotta get ‘em up and into the car. We’re going to the hospital.”

*****

Several hours later, the exhausted family staggered back into the Singers’ home. Dean had been treated at the hospital for his injuries and Bobby and Ellen had to give a statement to Sheriff Jody Mills – who happened to be a friend of theirs – about what happened.

Based on the extent of Dean’s injuries and the fact that John disappeared again, Jody said she didn’t think there would be any charges filed against Bobby and Ellen. She did recommend the pair put a restraining order out on John so that if he did come within so much of a proximity of either boy, he would be arrested.

Once back at the house, Gabriel and Castiel had to go home. Hael was furious when she found out what happened with Dean’s father, and said she didn’t feel comfortable with Cas staying in case John would come back. Despite Cas’ numerous arguments, he lost.

Sam passed out in the car, and Ellen ended up half-dragging/half-carrying him up to his room; leaving Bobby to get Dean situated.

“Ya alright, son?” Bobby asked, after he got a glass of water for Dean, and some extra pain pills, in case he woke up in the middle of the night.

Dean nodded.

“Anything else ya need?”

Dean shook his head.

“Ya wanna talk about it?” Bobby asked softly.

The younger man turned toward Bobby, tears sparkling in his forest-green eyes. “Am I broken, Bobby?”

“What?”

“Dad looked at me as though I was a freak,” Dean continued, tears making his voice thick and raw with emotion. “I’ve never been good enough for him. I’ve always been a disappointment. Maybe it would’ve been better to have let him get it over with.”

Bobby was dumbstruck. God damn John Winchester. Bobby only wished his wife would have killed the bastard instead of just wounding him. Of course, if Ellen would’ve killed John that probably would just be another thing Dean blamed himself for.

Moving to sit on the edge of Dean’s bed, Bobby look at the boy in front of him. So rarely had the older man seen Dean this vulnerable; all his defenses were cut to the quick – he was raw and exposed, and devastated at the rejection from his father.

“You listen to me,” Bobby said, reaching out to smooth Dean’s sweat matted hair, “yer Daddy’s the biggest moron I ever met.”

Dean’s eyes widened in shock at hearing Bobby describe his father that way.

“Ellen and I realized late in life that we wanted young’uns,” the elder man continued, gruff voice made even gruffer by unshed tears and emotions he wasn’t used to voicing. “It was too late for us to have any of our own.

“Then we met you and Sam, and we realized that family doesn’t end with blood. So, we adopted two boys, and we think they grew up pretty great. I don’t think we could be any prouder or love you and Sam any more than we do, even if you were our flesh and blood.

“So, we’ll just have to settle for the courts saying that yer ours. So, you get those damn fool ideas outta yer head. Yer a great kid, and will be one of the strongest, best men I know. Ya gotta great fella that ya love, and the two of you should cherish that.”

Dean couldn’t talk, he just nodded numbly in response, tears spilling down his cheeks unchecked.

“Now, I’m gonna go before we have to start braiding each other’s hair,” Bobby tried to joke, lightening the serious mood in the air.

The older man stood up to go, but was stopped when Dean reached out his hand and grabbed Bobby’s wrist.

“Thanks, Bobby,” he said with utmost sincerity. “I’m glad Sammy and I have you and Ellen. We couldn’t ask for better parents.”

Bobby swallowed harshly to fight against the tears rising in his eyes. Damn, did he love this kid. He would do anything to take that haunted look out of his eyes. Nodding jerkily, Bobby acknowledged Dean’s words, silently. Before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the boy’s forehead.

“G’night, son,” Bobby said as he walked to the door.

Right before he walked across the threshold to leave the room, he heard the words – so soft he almost missed them.

“Night….Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to need to go into a Writer's Protection program by the end of this.
> 
> Just remember I love you all, and hugs and Kleenex still are available.


	19. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not all sunshine and roses between our favorite boys in the wake of John's visit. Castiel lashes out and makes a decision that could change his relationship with Dean forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please know in advance, I am so sorry.

In the days following Dean’s birthday, everyone tried to gain a sense of normalcy, but things were off. John Winchester was gone, probably for good this time, but his specter haunted those he left behind.

Dean tried to play everything off, he wanted his family to think he was fine; but inside he was gutted. In a few brutal blows and even more cutting words, John had blown his eldest son’s sense of happiness and security to bits. To cope with his feelings of self-loathing and perceived failure, Dean thought back and wondered what he could have done differently. Maybe he could have waited to admit that he and Cas were together? No, that felt like a betrayal of the extent of their burgeoning relationship. Plus, Dean was spoiled by Bobby’s, Ellen’s, and Sam’s easy acceptance of the fact that Cas and Dean were together and were both guys. It wasn’t ever a problem or anything they discussed. Dean should’ve known his Marine Corps father would have a problem with his son being gay.

The more Dean thought, the more tied up he got himself emotionally, and the more introverted he became. The freckled teenager was drawing more into himself, building up walls to protect his heart. Truth of the matter was John’s actions had shaken his son badly, but Dean knew if he were rejected by Ellen, Bobby, Sam – or most of all Castiel – he would be broken beyond repair. So, he tried to hide some of himself. He was afraid to put all of him out there for fear he would never recover himself.

His family picked up on his change and tried to help him through it. Dean had important things to prepare for. He had to go to school the next day to take a calculus exam and to drop off a science project he had been working on. Even though his energy was not at full capacity, Dean was pushing himself because the following week he was scheduled to go back in for his second round of chemotherapy, which he was dreading.

Preparing for the next set of treatments was actually more difficult in some ways than the first time had been because Dean knew what to expect. He knew the pain of the chemicals burning through his skin, the intense stomach cramping that followed, topped off by retching the contents of his stomach into the nearest receptacle. The elder Winchester didn’t know how his family dealt with it. He didn’t want to be a burden any more, he wanted this over – just a bad memory. People always say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…he hoped he would be able to bear that out some day.

Lost in his thoughts, which were bordering too close to self-pity for Dean’s liking, he didn’t hear the door to his bedroom open. Because of that, he was startled to feel the other side of his bed dip as a weight joined him. Eyes flying open he found himself staring into his boyfriend’s sapphire blue eyes.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said with a small smirk.

“Heya Cas,” Dean returned. He was so tired. His bones were aching and he just felt like he could sleep forever. Part of him wondered if he was depressed, something Dr. Roberts said often happens with cancer patients. Actually, he almost would prefer it to be depression because if it was something else – like him coming down with a cold – that could be big trouble.

“I have good news,” the darker haired teen enthused, not noticing how sad his boyfriend seemed today.

“What’s that, Babe?” Dean said. He was in the mood for good news and was happy if he could have that vicariously through Castiel.

“I talked with my mother and she agreed you and I can go away this weekend to our cabin, just the two of us,” Castiel’s eyes sparkled with merriment and a little bit of lust.

“I do…” Dean started.

“It’ll be the first time we will have any time to ourselves since we started dating,” Cas rushed to continue. “We’ll have the whole place to ourselves and can do whatever we want. I’m sure Bobby and Ellen will let you go. Isn’t that fantastic?”

Dean paused. He didn’t know what to say. It was adorable to see Castiel so happy and eager to do something with just the two of them. However, Dean was relatively sure that the other teen’s plan included heavy making out and possibly more. Not that Dean didn’t want that, too, it’s just he felt so self-conscious right now. Dr. Roberts just chastised him at his last appointment that he had lost too much weight during the treatments, and Dean knew with that he had lost a lot of his muscle mass. Instead of having somewhat defined abs and toned arms, Dean was just sickly thin. Last time he looked in the mirror he could count all his ribs and see the vertebrate in his spine.

One of the secrets Dean had locked up about himself was he was a romantic at heart. With that, he wanted the first time he and Cas had sex to be special. And, it may be vain, but Dean wanted to look his best that first time. He didn’t want to give Castiel any reason to doubt progressing to a physical nature to their relationship. Until the green-eyed boy felt more comfortable with himself, he didn’t think it was a good idea to have sex.

“Cas,” he started after a few moments to think.

“We can leave tomorrow after school and stay the whole weekend. We’ll come back on Sunday night and I will be home in time to go to school and you’ll be back in time for treatment. And we can finally do something like normal boyfriends.”

Dean felt Castiel’s words like a physical blow. _Normal_ boyfriends. He didn’t consider them to be as such now? Was he embarrassed that he and Dean were together? Did he feel unduly burdened with a sick boyfriend? His entire world shifted on its axis and Cas still was rambling on, not aware of how his flippant words sounded to his beloved.

“Are you ashamed of me, Cas?” Dean asked quietly, eyes focused on a loose string on his bedspread. He couldn’t bring himself to look into that ocean-blue stare; if he did, he thought he would start to cry. Dean wouldn’t be more of a burden.

“What?” Cas asked, confused. “Why would you say that? Now, stop feeling sorry for yourself and let’s talk about what we are going to do this weekend.”

Dean felt his self-control snap. What the hell had gotten into the other boy today? Why was he being so pushy? He was trying to push Dean into doing something he wasn’t ready for, and he wasn’t even considering how hurtful his words might be. The pain welling up inside of Dean made him more careless with his own words.

“You think I’m feeling sorry for myself, Castiel,” Dean said, noticing with sick pleasure how Cas flinched at Dean’s use of his full name. “I’m not feeling sorry for myself…I’m feeling fucking sick. I can’t drive, I can’t go to school, I really can’t even go out to the movies at this point until after the second treatment.

“Do you know why I can do any of this ‘normal’ stuff? Because I have fucking cancer!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Cas fired back, his own temper flaring red hot. “You don’t think I am reminded of that every single day? I just want us to try to do something where we are not reminded of it constantly, even for a little bit.”

Dean hopped off the bed, ignoring the pains that flared in his stomach, and how wobbly his legs were. He didn’t want pity, he didn’t want to be an imposition, but damn it, he thought Cas of all people would understand.

“Where are we gonna get that, Cas?” the Winchester shot back, eyes blazing, mouth set in a hard, firm line. “Where are we truly gonna go that we won’t be reminded of this?”

“That’s why we are going to the cabin, you assbutt,” the other teen, seethed. “We’ll be away from everything that reminds you of your illness.”

The fight drained out of Dean. He was defeated. Castiel was supposed to understand him better than anyone and he didn’t understand this without Dean spelling it out.

“Where will you put me?” Dean asked quietly, head dropping to his hands.

“I don’t understand what you mean?”

Dean looked up to meet his boyfriend’s gaze head on.

“You want to remove me from everything that reminds me of my cancer,” Dean repeated patiently. “So, where will I be? I can’t get away from myself, Cas. I can’t get away from my reflection to see how thin I’ve become. I can’t hide from the port that is in my arm 24/7, just wanted to pump me full of the next round of poison that could actually cure me – oh, if it doesn’t fucking kill me first.

“Where am I going to get away from my thoughts? From the insistent droning in my head that tells me that everyone will be better off once I lose this fight. How are we going to get away from all of that?”

The two boys sat in uncomfortable silence for several moments. Dean refusing to say anymore, already having spoken more on the subject than he had before. Castiel opened his mouth a few times like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know exactly what to say.

After what seemed like an eternity, Cas stood up. “I think I should probably go, Dean. I need some time to think about everything. I’ll be sure to tell my mother that we won’t be going away this weekend after all.”

“No, wait, Cas,” Dean said. He didn’t want his boyfriend to leave like this. Even though Dean avoided talking about his feelings with a passion, he knew they had to address this.

“I think we just need some time to think about things,” Cas said sadly. “I’ll call you later.”

“I’m coming to school tomorrow,” Dean reminded him. “Can we meet up for lunch?”

Cas nodded in agreement and walked out the door. Dean slumped onto the floor and wondered how things had gotten so screwed up that he and Cas could fight over something so stupid. He would just wait until tomorrow, when they saw each other at lunch he would make sure they could talk and straighten all of this out.

*****

The next day, Dean was running late. It was Gabriel’s fault. Ellen and Bobby both had the rare day where they were both working the same shifts and neither one of them was available to drive Dean to school. He argued he could take a car and drive himself. They both rejected that idea since the port in his arm made it difficult for him to turn the steering wheel suddenly.

Not having anyone else to turn to, Dean called Cas’ older brother. Gabe was a junior at the local college and just so happened he had Thursdays off from his classes. After promising to buy the older Novak a half-dozen cupcakes for his trouble. Relishing the chance to indulge his sweet tooth, Gabriel agreed. He also wanted to have a chance to have lunch with his baby brother and get a chance to embarrass Dean and Cas.

Of course, Dean should have remembered to tell Gabe to come an hour before he was supposed to leave – then, he might actually have shown up on time. Grumbling about being late and taking it out of the cupcake payment, Dean got into the car and they were on their way.

Even with Gabe being late, they still made it to the school close to when Dean was scheduled to be there.

“You mind waiting for me for a few?” Dean asked. “It’ll probably be about an hour and half, then we can find Cas and get some food.”

Gabriel nodded and went back out to his car to catch up on his sleep – there was a reason he had Thursdays off – those were his sleep days. He set his alarm, however, so he wouldn’t miss lunch.

At the appointed time, Dean and Gabriel met up and went in search of Castiel.

“I think he should be at his locker right now,” Dean said, looking down at a paper his English teacher had returned.

Dean was so engrossed at what he was reading that he didn’t noticed Gabriel’s abrupt halt until he was several feet ahead of the older man. Turning back to look at him, Dean started to ask him what was the matter when he saw the look of horror mixed with anger etching its way onto the other man’s usually jovial features.

Glancing around to see what could have arrested Gabe’s attention, Dean saw it. Castiel was ahead of him, standing at his locker with his arms bracketing either side of a dark-haired boy – Dean thought his name was Milton…Michael Milton. Dean watched as his boyfriend leaned in to kiss the other boy.

A startled gasping cry escaped Dean’s mouth, obviously loud enough to draw Cas’ attention to where Dean was standing. Dean tried to keep his composure, tried not to show how badly his hands were shaking. He tried to hide the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. Turning on his heel, Dean walked as quickly as he could to get out of the building.

Castiel stood frozen, still with his arms around Michael. The younger Novak looked up to see his brother standing there, looking at him with such anger and disappointment in his eyes.

Gabriel stalked up to his brother, grabbed him by the upper arm and hauled him away from Michael.

“What the hell were you thinking, Castiel?” Gabriel hissed, anger coloring his normal light tone. Castiel couldn’t ever recall his older brother being this mad at him. “Oh, right, you weren’t fucking thinking.”

“Gabr…”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” was the bitten off reply. “I don’t know what happened between you and Dean, whether you were mad at him and wanted to hurt him or what, but you really fucked up royally this time kiddo.”

“It’s just been so hard with him being sick.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Gabriel practically roared. In all his life, to this point, Castiel probably could count on one hand the number of times his brother had been upset at him, let alone swore at him.

“I hate to see him like this, it breaks my heart,” Cas said softly, not able to meet his older brother’s gaze.

“You don’t think this is hard for him?” Gabe countered. “I have never seen him so depressed. He is trying to shoulder this all on his own, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, so he is trying to protect you. And what do you do, genius? You break his heart by making out publicly with some random stranger when you knew he was coming to school today and would be looking for you.”

Castiel slumped against the nearest bank of lockers, cracking his head back into the metal behind him several times.

“I messed everything up, didn’t I?” he asked, tears pooling in his eyes.

“Yeah, you really did, little brother,” the older Novak stated.

“What do I do, Gabe?”

“You fix this, baby bro, and you fix it before this is broken beyond repair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this chapter. This was one of the chapters that I was most uncertain about writing from when I first plotted the story. I originally was trying to fit as many prompts from the 30-day OTP challenge into my story, and one of which was a fight. I hate when they fight, but I thought this was necessary. Plus, we get to see Gabriel being absolutely awesome!
> 
> Let me know what you think. I love to hear your thoughts on where we are going.


	20. If Tomorrow Never Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel tries to pick up the pieces in the aftermath of Dean's visit to the school. He enlists Gabriel's help. Dean has a health crisis that puts his entire future in jeopardy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger. Next chapter will be up tomorrow and should tie up a few of the loose ends.

It had been four days since Castiel destroyed the best thing in his life. Four days without seeing Dean’s emerald-green eyes sparkling with mirth. Four days without being able to talk to his best friend about the latest episode of “Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.” Four days without being able to curl up and snuggle against Dean as they watched T.V.

Castiel was sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. He just tried to call Dean again: This time instead of getting his boyfriend’s – no, he guesses it would be ex-boyfriend’s now – customary voice mail message, he got something entirely different, _“The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service or has been disconnected.”_ He really blew it.

After Dean ran out of the school, Castiel tried to explain what had happened. He didn’t have any excuses, hell, he really didn’t have a good explanation. No matter how he tried to contact the older Winchester, he was shot down. Dean refused to answer his phone, even before changing his phone number. His text messages were never returned, and he strongly suspected Dean deleted them all without reading them.

In a fit of desperation, Cas drove to Dean’s house hoping to be let in for just a few moments. He was met by the imposing figure of Bobby Singer who told him to get the hell off of his porch and don’t ever come back.

Castiel tried to call Sam just to see if the younger brother could convince Dean to talk to him. From this brief talk, Cas got a “fuck you” from his former friend. Even Gabriel was giving his brother the cold-shoulder. The blue-eyed teenager needed to come up with a way to talk to Dean, and he thought he might have an idea. Mustering all his courage, Castiel got up from his depressed slump on the bed and crossed the hall to knock on his older brother’s door.

 _Knock, knock_. “Gabriel?” he called, cautiously. “Can I come in? I need to talk to you.”

He almost could hear his brother sigh on the other side, hesitating to open the door, not wanting a confrontation.

“Please, Gabe,” Castiel begged.

Moments later he heard the snick of the lock being released, and the door opened to reveal a very disgruntled older Novak.

“What, Castiel?” barked Gabriel without preamble.

“I need your help, please.”

“What do you need help with now? Do you want me to help you make a video of you and your new arm candy making out so you can send it to Dean and completely crush him,” Gabriel snarked.

“I need you to call Dean,” Cas said, ignoring his brother’s comments.

“Why the hell would I do that?” Gabriel asked, anger flashing in his usually warm and mirthful eyes. “I like Dean. My heart fucking broke to see him like that. Damn it, Castiel, why would you do that to him?”

“I was stupid,” Castiel began.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Gabriel retorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Castiel took a shuddering breath in, trying to steel himself for what he had to do. He had to be strong enough to admit this to Gabriel. If he couldn’t tell Gabriel, how would he ever be able to confess to Dean?

“I was feeling sorry for myself,” the younger man explained. He held up a hand to stop Gabe’s additional comments. “I wanted to take Dean to the cabin for us to get away together. He didn’t want to go.”

“Can you blame him?”

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, truly puzzled at his brother’s question.

Gabriel sighed and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes to relieve the pressure that was building from the tension of this conversation. Normally his brother was not this selfish, or this dense.

“He’s in the middle of a high dose treatment for a particularly aggressive form of cancer,” Gabriel explained, as though talking to a child. “He has a twenty-five percent chance of surviving to see his twentieth birthday.”

“How do you know all this?” Castiel asked, surprised his brother knew all this.

Gabriel shrugged and looked somewhat embarrassed.

“I read about it online,” he admitted quietly. “Dean is my friend, and if he was to be your boyfriend, that made him a brother to me. He and I talked sometimes.”

Castiel swallowed. He hadn’t realized his brother cared that much for Dean. Gabriel often hid his true feelings behind a veneer of sarcasm and wit; but, underneath, he cared too much and didn’t want to expose himself. The younger boy understood how Dean and Gabriel would be able to relate to each other, they were a lot alike. Maybe in a different time, without Cas around, Dean would have hooked up with the older boy; but, here and now there was no interest, just friendship.

“I thought he didn’t want to be with me,” Castiel admitted, softly. “He avoided being more intimate in our relationship, and I thought he regretted being with me as a boyfriend. I thought he was with me because I was safe.”

The confession was harder to push out than Castiel imagined. He knew he was coming across badly, as a shallow individual, but this was the truth.

“Michael had been flirting with me for weeks,” he continued. “Even though I love Dean and we still had good times, I was feeling sorry for myself. I enjoyed that Michael took an interest in me. So, after Dean turned down going to the cabin, I wanted to feel wanted. I know it’s wrong. I understand now that Dean wasn’t rejecting me – that it was all in my head – but, at the time, I just wanted a connection.

“So, after class, Michael started flirting with me again. Every time before, I had firmly rejected his advances, this time, I flirted right back. We bantered back and forth until he grabbed me around the waist and spun us around so his back was to the locker. Once we were positioned there, he leaned up and kissed me.

“I was so stunned by the action that I found myself kissing him back. I don’t know how long it went on, but finally my brain came back online and I realized how wrong it felt. Being with him was nothing like being with Dean, there was no true connection, no spark, no deep friendship to ground the relationship. It left me completely cold. I was pulling back to tell Michael this, in a much kinder way, when I heard a pained gasp from behind me. That’s when I saw you and Dean, and saw his heart shatter, and my own with it.”

Gabriel remained quiet for several minutes after his brother’s speech. Castiel was more than a little disquieted by how deafening the silence sounded. Suddenly, Gabriel stood up and got into his brother’s personal space, the younger boy flinched slightly, wondering if his brother was so angry that he was going to hit him.

“You are a damn fool, Cassie,” he yelled. “That boy loved you with everything he had and you were feeling sorry for yourself? Did you ever stop to think about him? For Christ’s sakes, Castiel, he probably feels self-conscious. He probably wonders if you just started dating him out of pity. Knowing the level of Dean-O’s self-worth issues, he probably thinks he is too much a burden on you. But, no that’s okay, don’t think about your boyfriend with the fucking cancer destroying his body, we want to make sure that baby Castiel is assured that he is loved best.”

Castiel’s cheeks flamed red in embarrassment. He knew Gabriel was right about a lot of what he said, but it didn’t make it easier.

“Do you know what Dean has been up to these four days while you have been sulking?” Gabriel asked, just a tinge of malice in his tone.

Castiel shook his head in the negative.

“He started back on his chemo treatments,” Gabriel said. “Last MRI showed the remaining cancer cells were growing. That MRI was taken the day he turned you down, by the way. So, the good Doc is upping his treatment to be more aggressive, to keep it from spreading either into his blood stream or into his other organs.”

His brother’s words were having the intended effect, they were like daggers in his heart. He had been so stupid. He needed to make this up to Dean, and hope that Dean was generous enough to give him a second chance. God knows he didn’t deserve another chance, but he wanted to make this right.

“Can you ask him to see me, please?” tears shone in Castiel’s eyes. Gabriel was a sucker for Cas’ puppy dog eyes, throw in tears and he was ready to give him whatever, in most instances.

“I’ll see…” Gabriel started when his phone rang. Looking down the display said _Sammy calling_. Gabriel frowned, Dean’s brother never called him. Why was he calling now? Did he want to bitch about how horrible Cas had been?

“Sam-I-Am,” Gabriel said with forced cheerfulness, “how are…”

The older boy stopped in mid-sentence. Castiel was watching the expressions flicker across Gabriel’s face, and Cas became more panicked with each second.

“Calm down, Sam,” Gabriel ordered, voice firm but soothing. “What happened?”

Gabriel’s eyebrows shot to his forehead and his face lost all its color. The eldest Novak stumbled backward and had to grab on to the frame of his bed for support. These actions more than anything terrified Castiel – this was bad, this was really bad.

“Sam, SAM!” Gabe shouted, trying to be heard over the other boy’s ramblings. “Where are Bobby and Ellen? Have you called them? Did you call an ambulance? Are they there now? We are on our way. Yes, I am bringing Castiel with me. No, I’m not sure it is a good idea. Do you want him to live with not having a chance to say goodbye.”

Castiel felt his anxiety ramp up hundred fold during this exchange. Something was wrong, something terrible had happened. Listening to the one sided conversation, the younger Novak was trying to imagine what Sammy was saying. When Gabe said “say goodbye,” the bottom fell out of Castiel’s world. No! It wasn’t that bad. He had to fix everything with Dean. They had years to spend together.

Still on the phone, Gabriel was hustling around his room picking up odds and ends. He grabbed his jacket, toed into his Converse, grabbed his car keys, and some money and headed for the door. No words were exchanged between the siblings, but Castiel was at Gabriel’s heels, grabbing his own jacket as they walked out the door.

For his part, Gabriel continued to talk to Sam, to soothe him as best possible. The tension was causing knots to form in Cas’ stomach.

 _Oh God, I was so stupid_ , he thought. _What if I never get a chance to tell him how much I love him? I’ve always thought there would be another chance. I’m a stupid moron, I didn’t realize how real this was. I could lose him, forever. Not to another boyfriend, or to college, but lose all possible hope with him because he is dead. I can’t do that._

“Snap out of it, Cassie,” Gabriel snapped. “I gotta call Ellen.”

Gabriel dialed the number quickly, then put the phone to his ear as he and Castiel slid into the vehicle. Throwing the car into gear, Gabriel left tire treads on the concrete in his haste to get on the road.

“Ellen? Gabriel,” was the terse exchange. “You hear from Sam? Dean’s going to the hospital. Sam said he was feeling sick this afternoon, throwing up. Last time he threw up there was blood mixed in. Sam said he wanted to call the hospital, but Dean convinced him he was fine.

“About a half hour after that, Sam said he was sitting next to Dean and he felt heat pouring off Dean’s skin. Kid told me he grabbed a digital thermometer and Dean’s temperature in 104. Yes, ma’am, he was going to call you. Then Dean had a seizure.”

Castiel’s heart stopped. He had been listening to Gabriel explain how sick his love was. No, this was just another dream. He knew it this time. _Haha,_ he thought, _fool me once…_ That nightmare of Dean dying plagued him for days after, and of course the recurrence would be worse now because he and Dean weren’t together, but it was just a dream.

“Ouch,” he muttered quietly. Cas decided to pinch himself to prove it wasn’t real, only to find his sharp nails sinking into the tender flesh of his forearm. _Okay_ , he reevaluated. _Not a nightmare, even worse, it’s real_.

“We’re in the car,” Gabriel continued to Ellen. “Should be there in a few. Yes, Castiel is with me. I think he is sorry for what happened. Yes ma’am, you have my permission to kick his scrawny ass.”

Cringing inwardly, the younger Novak had no doubts that Ellen, who was a good four inches shorter and many pounds lighter than he, would be able to take him in a fight. Hell, at this point, he would welcome the punches, he deserved them for what he put Dean through.

Gabriel hung up the phone shortly after. Sighing, he looked over at his little brother.

“Cassie,” he said, fumbling for the right words, “when we get to the hospital, Ellen and Bobby will be there. Dr. Roberts is on his way, so we probably will have an early assessment of Dean’s condition. It might not be good.”

“What do you mean? What do you know? What aren’t you telling me, Gabriel? Is Dean alive? Please, God, tell me he’s alive. Don’t tell me the love of my life has been taken away from me and I never got a chance to tell him how sorry I am for being such a massive dick,” Castiel started sobbing. Tears were pouring down his face. He messed up, more than he could ever imagine in his life, he messed up.

“He’s alive,” Gabriel assured, praying to whatever celestial body was listening that he didn’t just tell his baby brother the mother of all lies. “No one knows much. Ellen didn’t know anything, she hadn’t been called, yet. While I was talking to her Bobby beeped in and we had a conference call. Bobby gave Ellen and me more information and said to get our asses to the hospital as quickly as possible.”

Castiel nodded numbly. Nothing seemed real. He kept remembering snatches of his nightmare, hoping he could find some similarities, but this didn’t seem anything like the previous version.

Fifteen minutes later, both Novaks were running through the emergency room doors to find the Winchester-Singer-Harvelle family cramped into uncomfortable plastic chairs that looked like they were made for kindergarten students. There were a tense few moments when the family noticed Castiel, but that was put to the side, for the moment. The more important thing to worry about was Dean.

They had to wait almost two hours to get an answer. Gabriel had just returned from a nearby Starbucks with coffee and treats for everyone, when Dr. Roberts came in to talk to them. The look on the doctor’s usually optimistic face, made Castiel’s blood freeze.

“So, Doc,” Bobby ventured taking off his traditional trucker’s hat, and repeatedly wringing the brim between his hands in fear. “How’s our boy doing?”

Dr. Roberts tried to smile. This little family had been through so much. Dean was a fighter and had surprised him before, but he wasn’t sure what was going to happen this time.

“Dean has an infection,” the doctor explained. “Infections in cancer patients are serious because chemotherapy already suppresses the immune system. Once the immune system is compromised, think of it as a free access pass to an all-you-can-eat buffet. The bacteria invade and don’t want to go away.”

“What do you think caused the infection?” Ellen asked.

“We aren’t sure,” the doctor said, running a hand through his shaggy reddish-brown hair. “We think Dean may already have been showing some of the signs of pneumonia. That coupled with the stress Dean seems to have been under lately, and the increased level of chemo means there are a lot of factors. What we need to do right now is either get him better or make him comfortable.”

The doctor’s blunt statement threw Castiel’s world off its axis.

“You think he is going to DIE?!?” Castiel practically screeched.

Looking over at his patient’s boyfriend, Dr. Roberts tried to find the best way to explain, but opted for complete honesty.

“The next 48-72 hours are crucial for Dean,” he replied. “If he continues to fight and respond to the medicine, I think he could have a full recovery and be able to get out of here within a week.”

“And if he doesn’t respond as well, what then?” Sammy asked.

Dr. Roberts hesitated. He didn’t want to say this in front of a kid. However, from everything he’s seen, Samuel Winchester was not your average kid.

“If he doesn’t make improvement in that window, Sam, we will have to try more aggressive treatments, and we may need to open him up again and try to remove more of the tumor.”

“Will he die?” the question on everyone’s mind, but afraid to ask, and here was an almost 14-year-old asking that tough query.

Squaring his shoulders to face the wrath of this family, Dr. Roberts said, “If he gets worse in that window of time, with how weak he already is…yes, he probably would die.”

The family gasped, and tears started appearing in multiple eyes.

“I’m not saying we are going to get to that point,” the doctor clarified. “We are going to fight as long as he is.”

“He’s a damned stubborn, idjit,” Bobby croaked, trying not to let his family see how overwrought he was. “He’ll come out of this and be threatening to make life a living Hell fer y’all until you spring ‘em.”

A wan smile appeared on Dr. Roberts’ face. He hoped Dean’s adopted father was right.

“I’ll check back with you later,” the doctor concluded. “He is in ICU due to his condition, so visiting hours are restricted. I will come back out to get you, if you want to see him.”

Five heads nodded weary thanks to the doctor, and then everyone seemed to collapse into each other.

Castiel was clinging desperately to his brother. “What if I never get a chance to tell him? If tomorrow never comes, how will he know how much I love him? How will he ever know how sorry I am?”

For once, Gabriel didn’t have an answer. They had to wait to see if Dean had one more big fight left in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all more than I can say. Thank you so much for your beautiful comments, they make my day a little more full of sunshine.
> 
> I love this chapter because Gabriel is just awesome in this.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts...do you think Dean is going to survive? Do you think the fight with Cas broke his fight? What would Cas do if Dean didn't make it? 
> 
> I'm not saying Dean is going to die. I'm not saying he's going to live. I actually keep going back and forth at the moment :-)


	21. In My Time of Dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel waits at the hospital with Dean's family to find out what is wrong with Dean and his expected recovery.

The atmosphere in the family waiting room was tense, to put it mildly. Castiel realized Bobby, Ellen, and Sam were upset with him. Hell, he was upset with himself. He wanted to explain himself, but the glare Ellen levelled at him the last time he tried to speak struck fear in his heart. (Castiel was secretly grateful they were at the hospital, or else he feared he would be staring down the same shotgun Ellen used on John Winchester). Cas found it better to keep himself a little apart from the rest of the family.

Gabriel left about an hour before, volunteering to take Sam home for him to get some rest. Sam protested that he wanted to stay and wait to see his big brother. After three hours of waiting, his eyes were drooping and exhaustion was evident in every line of his body. Eventually Bobby and Ellen convinced the youngest Winchester to leave. When they left, Sam was so tired that Gabriel practically was supporting the boy’s full weight, half-dragging him out to the car.

This left Castiel with no true ally – not that Gabriel was really his biggest cheerleader at the moment, but he was Cas’ brother and come what may, the younger Novak knew his brother loved him, even if Castiel was a dumbass at times.

After Gabriel and Sammy left, Castiel tried to focus on bringing his emotions in check. The first two hours they had been there, Cas found himself continually crying. Eventually the tears trickled to a few stray, salty drips. However, the whites of his eyes were streaked blood-red. The tender skin underneath his eyes was a bruised purple from lack of sleep, and puffy from crying. His nose was rubbed raw and red, and he thought mirthlessly that he could give Rudolph a run for his money at this point.

The young Novak was disgusted with himself, but more than that he was terrified he would not be able to see Dean. That he would never be able to tell Dean everything that was in his heart; that he would never be able to make things right. At the very least, Castiel wanted to have Dean’s friendship. He knew that relationship would never fully satisfy him, not after they had been more. But, if it was a choice between just friends or a lifetime with no Dean, the acceptance of friendship only was a no-brainer.

Contemplating taking a break in his self-flagellation to run to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee-like sludge, Castiel’s actions were halted by the door to the waiting room opening and Dr. Roberts making his first appearance in hours. All three of the room’s occupants immediately shot to their feet.

“How’s our boy?” Ellen demanded of the doctor without preamble.

“Please sit down,” Roberts said, gesturing with his hands for the trio to reassume their positions.

They sat down, agitation radiating from every fiber of their beings. Castiel found his leg jiggling up and down, a physical manifestation of his nerves. He wasn’t even aware of how much he was shaking until Ellen reached over and placed her hand on his knee and squeezed gently, a gesture of reassurance and compassion. Stunned by the first act of acceptance from Dean’s family since they arrived, Castiel stilled his movements.

“We have Dean in one of our ICU rooms,” Dr. Roberts began. “While we were preparing the antibiotics, his fever spiked and he suffered another seizure. The duration was not long, and we were able to get him stabilized rather quickly.”

“That’s good, right?” Castiel asked nervously, as he chewed his bottom lip. He wanted to will the doctor to tell them everything was going to be alright.

“It is good we were able to stop the seizure,” Roberts continued. “However, the seizures have severely weakened his body. Also, until we are able to get his fever under control, that is the most concerning factor as it further compromises his already suppressed immune system. This means that any additional viruses or bacteria he would come in contact with could potentially kill him.”

Ellen and Bobby reached out for one another and clasped hands in solidarity. Castiel felt, more than heard, the gasp that came out of his throat.

“To be proactive, we have him in a clean room,” the physician explained. “This means to come in, you have to go through a decontamination process, you will have to wear sterilized garments to enter the room, and thoroughly wash your hands before entering. You will have to cover your mouths with a mask to keep as much away from him as possible. It will feel a little like wearing a space suit, but it is the best we have to avoid Dean getting another infection.”

“Has he woken up, yet?” Bobby asked.

“Not yet,” Roberts said with a small sigh. “At this point, I don’t know when he will regain consciousness. His body has gone through a great deal of trauma with the surgery, the increased chemotherapy treatments, and now this fever. Dean is a tough kid, he has the biggest heart and most fight in him I have ever seen for someone so young; but, the fact is the human body is fragile and it was only built to withstand so much.”

“No,” Castiel said, louder than he intended. “My Dean will not give up. He will prove you wrong.”

The doctor nodded slightly. “I hope you are right. As a doctor, I have to have a detachment from my patients; but, I have children of my own, and I am pulling for Dean. I want him to pull through.

“We do have to address one additional topic…Dean’s living will.”

Three heads simultaneously snap to full attention, confusion evident in all their faces.

“What living will?” Ellen asks, first to recover her power of speech.

“Your attorney, Mr. Balthazar, submitted the paperwork to my office before Dean’s first chemo treatment started,” the doctor said. “Dean laid forth very specific criteria for his living conditions. He specified he didn’t want extreme measures taken to prolong his life. If initial efforts to resuscitate him are not successful, he wants us to let him go.”

Shock descended upon the room after the doctor finished speaking. Bobby tried to speak, but couldn’t find words; Ellen looked angry at the world; and the tears Castiel suppressed started to stream down his face again unchecked.

“I’m sorry,” Dean’s doctor said quietly. “I thought he talked to you about this.”

Three heads shook in the negative. An uncomfortable silence stifled the room.

“When can I see my son?” Ellen asked, her voice seeming overly loud after the quiet.

“I can take you to see him now,” Roberts said. “I want you to be prepared, though, that Dean looks like he has been in a fight and has come out on the losing end. Also, with the ICU, we only can allow one person in at a time and no longer than fifteen minutes at a time.”

Again three heads moved in unison, this time in the affirmative.

Moments later they were ushered into the preparatory room. It was decided that Ellen would go first, then Bobby, and finally Castiel. The teenager hated to wait so long, but he was just grateful that the Singers were letting him in to see his boyfriend at all.

Finally, it was his turn to see his boyfriend. Castiel went through the scrub in procedures to make sure his body was as free from outside fibers as possible. He walked through the doors to Dean’s room and took in his first gaze at the freckled-faced boy he fell in love with; and felt his knees buckle underneath him. Staggering toward the chair beside Dean’s bedside, Castiel collapsed into it.

Dean looked so small and fragile. Castiel took for granted how Dean’s larger-than-life personality could fill up the room. His personality was matched only by his heart – a heart Castiel had been so honored to win. He always was so energetic. He loved discussing books and television shows and would bounce from topic to topic like a puppy chasing its tail. Castiel always found it to be one of his most adorable traits. Now, Dean was laying so still, the only movement the shallow breaths he took. Tubes were connected to every inch of Dean’s freckled skin. His complexion pale and waxy, except for his cheeks which had a fiery rose burning from the fever.

Castiel reached out blindly to find his boyfriend’s hand. Once he had ahold, the physical connection grounded the blue-eyed teen.

“Hello, Dean,” he said softly, stroking his free hand gently through the now-greasy honey-brown hair.

_Beep, beep, beep_. The steady sounds of the heart monitor were the only response to Cas’ voice.

“I don’t know if you can hear me or not. I know from what I’ve read research says it is good to talk to someone when they are….a-asleep,” Castiel stumbled over his words.

“I need you to come back to me, Dean. I miss you so fucking much. I’m so sorry for what I did. I was stupid and selfish and wrong. I know I need to tell you all of this if – no, when you wake up, but I wanted to say this now, just in case you can hear me.

“The doctor said you need to fight, so I am giving you something to fight for. Fight for us. If nothing else come back just so you have a chance to kick my sorry ass.”

The tears that never seemed far from the surface sprung to Cas’ eyes again, blurring his vision.

“I need you to fight, Dean,” Cas said in a watery voice, through a sniffle or two. “I need you to fight to come back. If not for me, then for Bobby and Ellen and Sam. They need you. I need you. I don’t want to be without you. I want us to continue with our plans to go to college together. I still dream of us getting married and growing old together. I imagine you making fun of me when I lose my hair, and I can tease you when you get a pot belly from too many years of pie.”

Castiel dropped his forehead to bump against where his and Dean’s hands were joined. He remembered the first time he ever held Dean’s hand. They were in eighth grade and some older boys came up to them as they were walking home from school. The older boys wanted to pick a fight, hurling out derogatory terms to Dean and Castiel both. Dean, his brave, foolishly fearless, Dean, held his chin high and grabbed Castiel’s hand, interlocking their fingers tightly and said, “You all are just jealous because you can’t have all this awesomeness for yourselves. C’mon Cas, we’re outta here.”

Dean shoved his way past the older bullies, pinning them with death glares as he moved. They walked several more blocks before Castiel realized his best friend hadn’t let go of his hand, yet. It was then, that Castiel realized he was well and thoroughly screwed because he was in love with Dean Winchester.

They had worked so hard to get together and it was gone in an instant.

“Please don’t die,” he choked out, finally giving voice to his deepest fears. “I don’t think I will survive that.”

Something shifted in the air at that moment. Cas couldn’t say what it was, but he thought he heard a rustling noise and it felt as though the air moved around him. As he puzzled over those sensations, he felt the gentle pressure of a hand pressed between his shoulder blades, offering comfort and strength to the core of his being. At that perceived touch, the teenager’s head jerked away from Dean and swiveled around to see who else entered the room, but he couldn’t find anyone behind him.

_“Great,”_ Castiel thought. _“Now I’m hallucinating, too. Good job, Cas. You just are having a bang up week, aren’t you?”_

Shrugging off the feeling of that added presence in the room, Castiel turned his focus back to his boyfriend. It was almost time for him to leave for his allotted time.

When he looked down, his heart nearly stopped, because there glassy and bleary were the most gorgeous pair of forest green eyes he had ever seen in his life. Those beautiful eyes he didn’t think he would ever see look at him again. Blinking to clear his vision, watery blue latched on to muted green, and Castiel felt the foreign sensation of the first smile in days ghost across his lips.

Dean was awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yay! Dean's awake. I know he really wasn't in this chapter much, but I felt it was a good time for Cas' self-discovery.
> 
> So what did you think? Are you happy with the turn of events? Do you think Dean should forgive Cas? Should he kick Cas' butt to the curb?
> 
> Also, although I did not spell it out in the chapter, in my mind the rustling sound that Cas heard was from an angel's wings, especially those of Mary Winchester sent to protect her son. She did not manifest herself fully, but she laid her hand on Cas' shoulder to provide him the strength to help her son once she woke him from his coma.
> 
> I love to hear from you, so let me know what your thoughts are. Thank you, as always, so much for reading. It brings me such joy to hear from all of you.


	22. All Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finally gets a chance to explain his actions to Dean. Also some adorable Dean/Gabriel bonding.

Ten days after Dean woke from his coma, he was close to being discharged from the hospital. He had to have a few more tests, but Dr. Roberts was optimistic the older Winchester would be able to go home soon. Dean’s chemotherapy treatments were on hold until his infection was fully cleared, but the doctor was optimistic stalling the therapy would not hurt Dean’s over all recovery.

The doctors determined Dean’s primary infection was caused by pneumonia, which filled both of his lungs almost to capacity, and caused the raging fever. Once the green-eyed boy was put on a heavy cocktail of antibiotics, and had a chest tube inserted to help drain the excess fluid, his recovery was slow, but steady. Castiel visited Dean as often as he could, but relations between the (former?) boyfriends was strained; that strain was something that pained Castiel more than anything, especially because he knew he caused the rift between them.

From the very beginning of their relationship the thing Castiel liked best was the easy rapport they had. The two boys just clicked and they were able to share everything with one another. Lulls in conversation usually were comfortable, now they were awkward. Dean’s eyes used to light up and sparkle with joy when Castiel walked into a room, now Cas saw the shuttered look in the other boy’s eyes. Dean often would tense when his erstwhile best friend came into the room, body language wary, as though he was waiting for the next shoe to drop. Each time Castiel saw how fragile their relationship was, it broke his heart a little more.

On this day, Cas was bringing Dean a new book to read. Knowing his best friend’s preference for science fiction, the blue-eyed boy was bringing Dean a copy of _Rendezvous with Rama_ by Arthur C. Clarke. He thought Dean would appreciate having something new to read. Castiel knew his friend was getting agitated being cooped up in the hospital and having everyone fuss over him. As he approached Dean’s room he heard familiar voices filtering into the hospital’s hallway. A smile flickered across Cas’ face as he heard the cheerful chuckles coming from his boyfriend. It was so good to hear Dean happy again. Castiel still had nightmares about seeing his boyfriend in ICU, but seeing Dean getting stronger made the young Novak burst with happiness.

Standing outside for a moment, Castiel was surprised to hear another familiar voice joining with Dean’s – _Gabriel_. What was his brother doing here? The younger Novak knew his brother was friends with Dean, but never thought they were really that close. Feeling somewhat self-conscious, Cas found he didn’t want to make his presence known, just yet.

“G-a-a-b-e,” Dean whined, “you can’t do that.”

“Haha, suck it Winchester, I’m just better at this than you are,” Gabriel replied gleefully.

“I hate you so badly right now,” came the grumbled response.

“No you don’t, you love me and you know it,” Cas’ brother sing-songed.

“Yeah, yeah, you wish,” Dean retorted. “Oh, wait, almost….yes!”

“You bastard,” Gabriel growled. “You think you’re pretty cute, don’t you?”

“Naw, man, I think I am adorable,” Dean chuckled.

Castiel was gob smacked. The retorts were flying fast and furious between the two. They were so comfortable with one another, they almost sounded like they were flirting, but what were they doing? It sounded like they were playing a game of some sort. Hand hovering over the door, Cas was stayed by his indecision and his disbelief…could there be something between his brother and ex-boyfriend? He always thought the two of them were similar in some ways, but he never would have thought of them as being together. Now, he wasn’t sure.

“C’mon shorty,” Castiel heard Dean tease. “Don’t get your panties in a twist just because you suck at this.”

“Well, you know good things come in small packages,” Gabriel shot back.

“Oh my God, dude,” Dean choked out – as Castiel found himself stumbling back. “How long have you been waiting to use that cheesy ass line?”

“Hey, that’s my most successful pick up line,” Castiel heard his brother snark back. “The ladies love it.”

Dean laughed good-naturedly. “Yeah, well save it for the ladies, because it doesn’t work on gay dudes.”

Composing himself, and taking some comfort that Dean seemed to shoot down his brother’s flirting, Castiel decided it was time to man up and go in to talk to his…Dean.

Walking into the room, the youngest Novak took in the scene in front of him. Gabriel was sprawled out next to Dean in the small hospital bed and they both were hovering over Dean’s iPad playing some sort of game. Whatever they were playing, it was turning into a massive competition between the two, who – Castiel had to admit, with a growing swell of jealousy in the pit of his stomach – looked cozy together.

“Ahem,” Castiel cleared his throat to get their attention. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Both teens looked up at him, Gabriel with surprise and Dean with something that bordered apprehension.

“We’re in the middle of a Flappy Bird tournament,” Gabriel explained. “And, I am kicking Deanie-Beanie’s perky little ass.”

Both Castiel and Dean flushed a brilliant shade of red at Gabriel’s description. Seeing the discomfort between the two, Gabriel rolled his eyes and hefted himself off the bed.

“Okay, you two together are party poopers,” the older man said with a huff. “I’m outta here.”

Before leaving he leaned over and gave Dean a quick hug and a brief, “take care, man.” Passing by his brother, Gabe gave him a clap on the shoulder and said he would see him later that night at home.

Without Gabriel, the atmosphere in the room turned awkward, tense. Neither teenager knew quite what to say, and Castiel found himself rooted to the spot – not sure if his company was desired. In all his visits, Dean had never been hostile, but he never was as friendly as usual, yet another thing Castiel chalked up to his stupidity.

"You two seemed like you were having a good time," Cas ventured into a conversation, ignoring the pangs of jealousy he felt toward his own brother.

"We always have fun just goofing off," Dean said with a smirk. "We've been playing that damn Flappy Bird for months and we keep see-sawing back and forth in the winner. We are both sore losers - it's a good thing we don't hang out more than we do, we would probably kill each other."

Castiel let out a relieved chuckle. He was embarrassed for his feelings, but he was glad that Dean seemed to have no romantic interest in his brother; if Dean had wanted to move on to Gabe, Castiel wouldn't stop him, especially after all the grief Cas put Dean through; but, it definitely would make family gatherings awkward with you ex-best friend/ex-boyfriend on your brother's arm as a date. Castiel shivered to image the two of them together. Selfishly, he was glad he would never have to see that in real life.

“How are you, Dean?” Castiel asked after a few minutes of silence. This seemed like the safest topic.

“I’m fine,” came Dean’s clipped reply.

“That’s good, I’m glad,” Castiel replied earnestly. “I was worried about you.”

“Yeah, right,” came the response, so softly that Cas almost missed it, but he heard it, and recoiled back as though struck.

“You doubt that I was upset?”

Dean squared his shoulders and looked into Castiel’s weary blue eyes for the first time in days. As their gazes held, the emotions Dean had kept battened down previously were on full display: anger, rage, hurt, despair, pain, sadness, love, rejection. Castiel felt dizzy from the turmoil he saw reflected in his boyfriend’s stare. Throwing caution out the window, Cas sat in the plastic chair waiting by Dean’s bedside – a place that should be natural to Castiel as Dean’s boyfriend, but was he still a boyfriend? Were they just best friends again? Or had he ruined everything so completely that Dean would not be able to be around him in any form?

“I think you feel guilty,” Dean replied, sadness lacing his tone.

“Yes, I do feel guilty,” Castiel admitted, matching Dean’s tone. “But, I don’t think I feel guilty for the same reason you think I do.”

“What game are you playing here, Cas?” Dean asked, suspicion evident in his tone and posture.

“Game?” Castiel cocked an eyebrow in query. “I am not playing any game, although I would like to try that bird thing you and Gabriel were playing when I came in.”

Shaking his head in exasperation, Dean looked down onto the shabby white bed covers, picking at the loose threads, trying to find the words to express his feelings. He wasn’t good at this type of thing: Dean Winchester’s number one rule was no “chick flick” moments, yet here he was having what could potentially be the biggest chick flick moment of his life.

“I just don’t get it, man,” Dean said, head falling back against the thin pillow in sudden exhaustion. “Was dating me a pity thing? Did you feel bad when I was diagnosed with cancer and figured since I got the short end of the stick, might as well make whatever time I had left a little better? Did you find out about my long-standing crush on you and figure ‘why not let him have a taste, he’ll probably die soon?’”

“What!?” Castiel exclaimed, shocked his boyfriend could ever think such things.

“Were you and Michael together the whole time? Did you laugh about how ridiculous it was that I believed that you wanted to be with me? Did you hold him and kiss him and tell him how wonderful he is? Did you imagine I was him when we were together? Did you sleep with him?”

Dean had worked himself into quite a state as he was venting his questions to Cas. With each fear that poured out in query form, Dean’s heart rate accelerated and his blood pressure went off. Before Castiel could respond to any of Dean’s questions, shrill alarms were ringing, indicating a severe change in Dean’s vital signs. Moment later a short, pleasantly plump looking nurse came bustling in. She injected something into Dean’s I.V. and waited until a few moments later, Dean’s vital signs evened back out again.

Once assured her patient was responding to the treatment, the nurse rounded on Castiel.

“Listen to me, boy,” she threatened. “His Mama is a friend of mine, and she asked me to keep an extra close eye on him. You upset him again like that, and I will make sure you are thrown out of here faster than you can say ‘uncle.’”

“I’ll behave, ma’am,” Castiel replied, cowed by the short woman’s fury.

Satisfied she struck the fear of God into the boy, she nodded shortly and left the room.

“I think I’m a little afraid of her,” the youngest Novak admitted.

“Yeah, me, too,” Dean seconded. “I think she’s scarier than Ellen any day.”

The two friends shared a conspiratorial smile, much like they had at other points in their friendship; but, the easy camaraderie faded as quickly as it came.

“What are you doing here, man?” Dean asked hesitantly.

“I want to spend time with you,” Castiel said, then almost immediately regretted his choice of words, fearing Dean would read them as the pity he mentioned before and not a true desire to spend time with the most important person in his world.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” Dean said, somewhat sadly. “Imma big boy; can take care-a myself.”

“I’m not babysitting, Dean,” the other boy explained. “I miss spending time with you.”

Dean nodded, almost imperceptibly, acknowledging he missed his friend, too.

“I brought you a book,” Cas said as he reached into his black messenger bag to pull out the present he brought. “I thought you might be a little bored, so I figured reading would help.”

Face lighting up in excitement at a new story to read, Dean greedily reached out to snatch the prize away from Cas.

“Oooooh,” Dean exclaimed, eager to see the description. “I love Arthur C. Clarke. He is one of my favorites, aside from Vonnegut.”

“Yes, I remembered,” the other teen replied with a fond smile. “I also didn’t think I ever had seen this book in your house, I figured it would be safe to assume you had not read it.”

“No, I haven’t,” Dean said with a genuine grin, spreading to light up his bright green eyes with pure happiness. “This is awesome, man, thank you so much.”

And, just like that, the mood between them was tense again. There was a fragile bond being forged between them, but Dean now had been burned before, so he wasn’t as willing to reach out and initiate interactions. Castiel thought Dean probably feared appearing weak or needy, so he would rather retreat into himself instead of opening up to potential rejection again. Seeing that spark fade from Dean’s eyes gave Castiel the courage to address the elephant in the room: The kiss he shared with Michael.

“It was just that time, you know,” Castiel began. It was so much easier to give this confession to himself in the mirror. To say these words out loud – especially words that could potentially cause Dean more hurt that healing – was one of the more difficult things Castiel experienced in his seventeen years on Earth.

“Cas, maybe we shouldn’t,” Dean began, looking apprehensive, as though he might not want to hear what his ex-boyfriend had to say.

“No, Dean, I need to say these things, and I need you to listen,” Castiel implored. “We never have to talk about them again after this, and I understand this might not change anything, but please let me say my piece. This is incredibly difficult for me, but I need to do this and do it right.”

Seeing the stubborn glint to Cas’ gaze, Dean knew he wouldn’t be able to talk him out of this endeavor; so, Dean nodded slightly as encouragement for Castiel to continue.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” Castiel admitted. “I wanted to tell you for so long, but I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way or not; and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by admitting I had feelings for you. Seems I messed things up pretty good regardless.”

Castiel laughed mirthlessly at just how royally he messed up. He didn’t realize his hand inched closer to Dean’s so their fingers were brushing against each other. If Dean noticed, he didn’t make any effort to pull away.

“When we found out you had cancer, my heart stopped and I felt my world collapse,” he continued. “Not only was I terrified of losing my best friend, I was petrified that I would never have a chance to tell you how I felt. So, with my always immaculate timing I admitted that I wanted to be more than friends. I understand how you might think my actions were because of your cancer – and they were, in a sense, it’s just that I didn’t want to wait. I figured ‘what the hell, no day but today,’ right?”

Pausing to take a breath and gather his thoughts, Castiel couldn’t bring himself to look at Dean. If he looked Dean in the eye, the teen feared he would lose his courage, and he needed to say everything. Trudging on, Castiel tried to explain as best he could.

“I was so happy those first few weeks. I was able to hold your hand. I could kiss you, and you weren’t freaked out by it, in fact you seemed to like it. This was perfect! It was everything I could ask for. Then, you started your treatments, and something inside of me grew hollow.

“I’m a selfish dick. When I saw how sick you got after chemo, my first thought was if you didn’t recover from this, I would be all alone again, and that would be awful because I wouldn’t have my lodestone to keep me grounded anymore, because you would be gone. My heart broke to see you in so much pain, and I felt useless, completely helpless to do anything to stop your suffering.

“Things were good between us, but for some reason I felt incomplete. I wanted more between us, I was worried you were only with me because I was safe and familiar. I began to feel neglected and ignored. These all are insignificant excuses, in the grand scheme, and I feel terrible having to admit them. When I proposed we go to the cabin, I wanted some affection and some of your time all to myself, no doctors, no siblings, no parents. Just you and I and maybe something would happen between the two of us.”

Tears were now forming in Castiel’s eyes making them shine even brighter. Dean looked at him as though he were hypnotized. The other youth made no move to interrupt the story; he was enraptured, hanging on every word to try to gain some insight into his best friend/boyfriend.

“When you rejected the trip, my battered ego took that as a roundabout rejection of _me_. I felt betrayed,’ Cas continued, voice cracking at times when the emotions ran too high. “I ran out of your room, and never considered there could be alternatives to why you said no.

“I made it to school the next day, and I was still so hurt that I was listless and out of sorts all morning. Michael had been flirting with me, shamelessly I must say, for weeks and did not accept the ‘I have a boyfriend and we are in a committed relationship’ spiel I gave everyone else. I rebuffed him every time he approached me. But that day…”

Here Castiel found the words were sticking in his throat. The bile was rising from his stomach and threatening to overwhelm him. These words always were painful to say, but would be moreso knowing these had the power to crush Dean thoroughly.

He cleared his throat and started again, trying to maintain a veneer of calm.

“That day, when he started flirting with me, I found myself flirting right back. There was a part of my brain that was saying for me to stop that this was cheating on you, that this wasn’t fair. But, I gave in to my pity party and indulged myself. What I found was there was no spark between Michael and I. The chemistry you and I have together is electric, and some of that comes from us being such good friends beforehand. What you witnessed was our first - and only - kiss. In answer to your question from before, no we did not sleep together.

“I had just pulled away from him to explain that was a mistake and we were never going to do that again because it felt wrong and I have a boyfriend. As I gathered my wits to say this, I heard a small cry from behind me and turned to see you and Gabriel there. The look on your face destroyed me. I watched the hope die from your eyes, and I knew I was the cause and I felt awful.

“I tried for days to call and explain, just to get you to listen to my apology. I know it isn’t much, but I am so, so, so very sorry that I acted like a selfish, conceited jerk. Then when we finally got the call that you were sick, I feared I would never get to apologize to you.”

For this part, Castiel knew he had to look Dean in the eyes and show his sincerity.

“Dean, I know I hurt you. I deserve whatever punishment you can throw at me. I have no excuses for my actions and I know that I probably destroyed our friendship as well as our romantic involvement. I want you to know that I am sorry with every fiber of my being. I hope you will consider at some point taking my sorry ass back. But, if you can’t take me back as a boyfriend, I would happily settle for best friend status.

“It is cheesy as hell, but my life truly is gloomy and gray without you.”

“Dude, if you start singing _You Are My Sunshine_ , I swear I am gonna start throwing punches,” Dean half-teased. The first words he uttered since Castiel’s apology began.

“No, I won’t sing, you don’t deserve that torture,” Castiel cracked with a small smile. “I just want to ask for you to give me a second chance. I know I don’t deserve it, but I have to ask. I will do whatever you say. I will grovel at your feet, if you want me to. I just want us to be together again.”

Castiel’s supply of words ran out. He rambled everything he wanted to say to Dean, now the young Winchester had to make the decision of what to do. He was more than aware that he held Cas’ – and his own – hearts and happiness in his hands. Chewing on his bottom lip, Dean worried it as he contemplated his options. He missed Castiel, no doubt about it. They had been practically attached at the hip since they first became friends. This tension between them was too oppressive to him, he wanted them to be DeanandCas again, not Dean and Cas. But, he was afraid to trust Castiel too readily again.

“ _If_ I give you a second chance,” Dean began. “ ** _If_** _…_ ” he had to repeat after Castiel’s face lit up like Christmas morning at the mention of a second chance.

“ _If_ I give you a second chance,” the young Winchester began again, “we would need to be completely honest with each other. I know that is something I suck at as much as you. We need to talk about what is bothering us.

“Also, just because I might decide to give you a second chance doesn’t mean that I have forgiven and forgotten. I think it is going to take me some time to be able to look at you and not see you kissing and slobbering all over Michael – don’t care if the kiss was less than epic, still gross to watch your boyfriend make out with another dude.

“There would be one final condition…”

Castiel nodded so vigorously he thought his head was going to fly off his neck. _Dean’s willing to give me another chance_ , was his repeated mantra. He realized Dean was going to have trust issues for a while and they would have some things to work through, but the fact that Dean was willing to entertain the possibility of getting back together made Castiel’s heart soar.

”Name it,” Castiel said of Dean’s final term of them possibly getting back together.

“Pie,” Dean said succinctly. “You will be responsible for feeding me oodles and oodles of pies without complaints about what this is doing to my health, I think we all can agree that is failing rather spectacularly without any help.”

A surprised chuckle erupted from Castiel’s throat at that last condition. “Yes, Dean,” he replied good-naturedly. “I think I can agree to that.”

Dean nodded wearily. The whole conversation was more emotionally and physically draining that he realized.

“Still need s’time to think ‘bout it,” he slurred sleepily.

“Of course, Dean,” the other man replied. “I’m going to go and let you get some rest.”

“Okay,” came the drowsing reply.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dean,” Castiel said softly, and pressed a gentle kiss on Dean’s forehead.

“G’night, Cas,” Dean said, moments before his soft snores began to fill the room.

Castiel smiled broadly at his boyfriend. Dean needed time to think, Castiel could appreciate that. The positive was that Dean hadn’t said to get out and never come back – he said he would think about their relationship. For now, that was enough to make Cas’ entire world seem grand.

It was a good start, and he hoped it was a beacon of brighter times on the horizon for him and Dean. He wanted that happily ever after more than he ever could say, and he was going to fight to have it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love the bromance between Gabriel and Dean, so I wanted to expand upon it in this chapter.
> 
> So, Dean hasn't completely forgiven Cas, but he has opened the door to maybe allowing him to come back.
> 
> This chapter kind of got away from me and got much longer than I initially intended. But I think Castiel had a lot he had to say that needed to be said, if ever the boys are going to get back together, and I couldn't pass up the fun with Gabe and Dean.
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think - love it, hate it, so-so it? Let me know. Thank you all for reading, you are the best and I love you all.


	23. Maybe (Next to Normal)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel tentatively reforge their relationship and have a first "date." Castiel and Ellen have a heart-to-heart.

Coming home after two full weeks in the hospital was a little piece of heaven for Dean. However, this meant having to adapt to a new sense of normal.

After Bobby and Ellen left for work – he convinced them to work their regular shifts again so they weren’t always hovering underfoot – and Sam at school, Dean had time to do what he wanted to do. He could turn his AC/DC up to eleven and belt out every song off-key. He could curl up in his nest of blankets and pillows he seemed to accumulate and take a nap. Or, he could do what he was doing currently, his homework.

Being out-of-commission in the wake of his pneumonia left him even further behind than he had been. His teachers were being awesome, but they had to follow the rules, too. If he didn’t get caught up on his work soon, he was going to fail at least his history class, and was in danger of failing his physics class. Dean was in a panic. If he failed these classes – especially physics – that would be a huge negative on his college admissions. So, Dean was throwing himself into his work with everything he had, hunched over his desk, brows furrowed in intense concentration, bottom lip caught firmly between his teeth.

“You’re cute when you get so focused like that,” Castiel’s voice rumbled from his doorway, startling Dean and making him jump.

“Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean exclaimed. “Are you trying to finish me off by giving me a frickin’ heart attack?”

Uncertainty and worry crossed Castiel’s face. Since Dean got out of the hospital, Castiel had become a fixture at the house once again. He came straight from school to Dean’s house. Some of his friends complained they never saw him anymore, but the youngest Novak didn’t care. He needed to rebuild his relationship with Dean and right now that was more important to him that hanging out at the mall or the local coffee shop for a few hours after school. Dean and Cas had forged a tentative boundary, but the previous ease between them was missing, and Cas found himself questioning things he never would have before, such as this moment.

“I apologize, Dean,” the other boy began. “I should have knocked first. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Dean let out a frustrated sigh. The wariness between the two of them was weighing on the young Winchester. Taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose, Dean tried to give his friend a carefree smile.

“It’s alright, Cas,” Dean said, waiving his hand as though to dismiss the problem. “Water under the bridge, right?”

Nodding gravely, Castiel made his way into the room. As he passed by Dean, he reached out to squeeze the green-eyed boy’s shoulder. Dean couldn’t help it; he flinched at the contact. Though he was willing to try to establish a new relationship and new boundaries with Cas, Dean couldn’t get the image of Castiel kissing Michael out of his head. Not failing to notice how Dean still shrank from his touch, Castiel looked sadly at his boyfriend and dropped his hand limply to his side. He situated himself on Dean’s bed and started to pull out his homework.

Looking over at how dejected Castiel was, Dean berated himself. Yes, Castiel messed up – big time, huge. But, Cas was trying to make amends. He tried so hard. Recently, he always was bringing Dean a little pie from his favorite bakery, or a special coffee drink from the fancy café down the street. If Cas was willing to try so hard, it had to be a two way street – Dean had to work at it, too.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean said softly, almost shy. “I know you are trying and I appreciate that, man, I really do. I need to try a little harder, too. I promise I will.”

Not verbally responding, Castiel just nodded his head wearily.

“How about this?” Dean said with sudden inspiration. “Let’s try again.”

Castiel’s head shot up immediately like he had been jolted by a live wire. Dean could almost see the excitement and nervousness thrumming through the darker-haired boy.

“Really?” Castiel said, cautious but optimistic, too.

“Really,” Dean replied, a small but brilliant grin spreading across his face.

“What do you have in mind?”

Dean hesitated, was he moving too soon?

He still worried he was putting his heart out on the line too soon that he was forgiving Castiel too easily. However, he felt if they didn’t try again, they never would be able to fully reconnect. Some of his instincts told him to forgo a romantic relationship with Castiel, just to re-establish their friendship, something safe.

Part of him wanted to make Castiel miserable, make him suffer for the pain he caused Dean. But, the eldest Winchester could never be accused of being petty: He had too big of a heart, he loved too fiercely – which was simultaneously his most admirable trait, and his greatest weakness.

And yes, another part of him wanted to protect Cas from undue pain, at least until he knew whether his cancer treatments would be successful, in case the worst happened. But, he worried about wasting too much time in fear about what was the right thing – what if he missed out on something brilliant, something beautiful? If the worst happened wouldn’t it be just as bad to leave with regrets?

Dean argued with himself. He wanted to be tentative, cautious, but right now he didn’t have that luxury. Being with Castiel always was a welcome distraction from the harsh realities of his illness. If Cas still wanted a relationship with him, and he was pretty sure that was what the blue-eyed boy had been trying to say, Dean would wade into that pool again, too. He would put a little of himself out on the line to see what happened. He wanted to trust his former (current?) boyfriend, but was scared.

 _Man up, Winchester_ , Dean scolded himself mentally before taking the first big leap: “Well, I haven’t been outta this place since I was sprung from the hospital and I might be getting just a little stir crazy,” Dean admitted.

“Yeah?” Cas asked, starting to bounce a little on the mattress in his excitement. This was the first time Dean initiated something between them since he had been home. The expression on the other teen’s face brought a soft, fond smile to Dean’s lips. Castiel looked like an eager child on Christmas morning seeing the greatest gift ever waiting, and hoping it was for him.

“I still am a little unsteady on my feet,” Dean said, hating to have to admit to his weaknesses, but trying to be honest with Castiel. “So, we probably shouldn’t run a marathon or anything. But, yeah, let’s get outta here and do something fun.”

“Like a date?” was the question from Cas whose eyes were shining with anticipation and fear.

Dean nodded in response. He sometimes forgot since their relationship was born in friendship that they never really got to go on their first date.

With Dean’s assent, Castiel looked like he wanted to fly off the bed and engulf Dean in the biggest hug ever; however, he wasn’t sure that would be welcomed so he held himself back.

“What do you wanna do?” the young Novak questioned, he’d be willing to do whatever at this point.

“How’s about we go to Ma’s place for dinner and then see how we feel if maybe we can catch a flick?” Dean asked, uncertain if this would be okay. Dean knew Ellen was still standoffish with Cas since the Michael “incident,” but he thought it would be a fair place to start. Ellen made a mean bowl of tomato-rice soup, Dean’s favorite, and it was probably as much as his stomach could handle.

“Sounds perfect,” Cas replied happily. “But, I have one condition.”

Dean frowned slightly, what kind of condition could Cas have? “What is it?”

“You have to be honest with me,” the older teen looked earnestly at Dean, blue eyes shaded in concern, and some doubts lingering in the background. “If you start to feel unwell, you have to tell me immediately and we will come home. If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell me, and I’ll stop.”

“Okay,” Dean replied. “But, the same goes for you.”

Thus establishing the boundaries for their first official date, the two boys put their shoes and coats on and headed to Castiel’s car. The drive to Ellen’s restaurant, The Roadhouse, only took a few minutes. When the bell tinkled over the door, signaling a new customer, Ellen looked up from behind the counter and had to quickly mask her surprise at seeing her adopted son and his wayward boyfriend walk into the diner together.

“Hey baby,” she greeted Dean. “What’cha doing here? I thought you were going to get caught up on some work?”

“Yeah, I was,” the youth replied, bouncing almost imperceptibly on the balls of his feet, nervous under his mother’s gaze. “I kinda got sick of looking at the same few walls and asked Cas to take me out for a few hours.”

This time Ellen couldn’t school her expression quickly enough, her eyebrows raised all the way to her hairline and she practically squeaked as she asked, “Like on a…date?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean responded sheepishly. Behind him, Castiel blushed furiously and didn’t meet Ellen’s gaze.

Ellen didn’t like this one bit. She had a few things to say to her son’s boyfriend, but for the moment, she was so damned grateful to see Dean doing something next to normal, that she let it go for now.

“Go get a seat and I’ll get some food out for you,” she stated.

The two boys found a booth near the back that was comfortable for them, and settled in. For the first several minutes they just stared at each other, the silence of all they wanted to say was almost deafening.

“So…” Dean started.

“Dean, I…” Cas blurted at the same time.

Stopping at the same time, they looked at each other and just started laughing uncontrollably.

“This is so ridiculous,” Dean muttered. “We’re acting like we’re fucking twelve.”

“Speak for yourself,” Cas said with mock-severity, “I am acting like a mature adult.”

“Who is going to throw up all over the table if he has to talk to me,” Dean retorted.

“I would never embarrass myself that way,” Cas reprimanded. “I might piss myself, but I would never throw up.”

This small exchange seemed to dispel some of the uneasiness between them. And before they knew it, the conversation was moving easily again, like it used to. It wasn’t perfect; there were topics that had to be avoided – especially Castiel’s shared classes with Michael – but, it was better and put both teens in a more comfortable position.

As they chatted and laughed with one another, the rest of the diner fell away, their focus was on reconnecting with each other. Lunch was served and there were brief lulls in their talking in favor of eating; but, those silences were comfortable, not the awkward messes they had for the past two weeks. They were so caught up in their own world, neither teen noticed that Ellen watched them like a hawk, assessing the situation.

Finished with their small meal, Dean said he was going to the restroom before they left for the theater. Castiel nodded, truly happy for the first time in weeks, and said he would wait there. As soon as Dean made his way to the back, Ellen saw her opportunity and swooped into her son’s vacated seat.

“El-Ellen,” Cas stammered. “Hi.”

“I don’t have long, my boy will be back soon, and you and I need to have a come to Jesus,” she snapped to the young man across from her.

Castiel blanched at Ellen’s harsh tone. In the years he knew the Singers, Castiel always respected the strength Ellen possessed, he knew she could be a fearsome force to be reckoned with, if she wanted to be. He had seen that fire directed at others in the past and always was glad he was not faced with her ire. Now, he found himself confronted by an angry mother bear, and he was terrified. For a moment, he really was afraid he was going to relieve himself as he joked with Dean about earlier.

“I’ve known you for a long time Castiel Novak,” she bit out, ice lacing her tone, no hint of the usual warm, compassionate tones she used around him and the Winchester boys. “I always liked you and even rooted for you and my Dean to get your heads out of your asses and get together. I know that something happened between you and that boy and that you hurt him…badly.”

“H-h-he saw me ki-kissing another boy,” Castiel stammered out.

Seeing the look that Ellen shot to him on the heels of that confession made him wish he kept his confession to himself.

“I see,” she stated. “My boy has too good of a heart for his own damn good. He needs to be focused on getting well and beating this cancer once and for all. He doesn’t need anyone holding him back or distracting him.”

Castiel looked like he wanted to speak, but Ellen levelled him with such a hard glare that he thought it was amazing she didn’t smite him or turn him to stone immediately. He, wisely, held his tongue.

“I never felt like I had to give you ‘the speech,’” Ellen continued. “I always thought you were a smart boy, and I could see you cared for my baby. However, I can see my judgment was wrong in this instance, so I find myself having to speak to you.”

The most important woman in Dean’s life fixed her stormy gaze directly onto Castiel, completely unwavering. “That boy is one of the most precious things in my life and I won’t have nobody hurt him. Now, I know there has been unpleasantness between you. If Dean is trying to work past that, I won’t say anything about it.

“But, I want you to hear me and hear me good, Castiel, you step so much as one toe outta line; you do something that hurts my boy, that puts his health and well-being at risk, or if I even hear so much as a whispered rumor of you doing something so stupid as to cheat on that boy again, I will hunt you down and I will kill you. I will use your body as the main ingredient in all my restaurant’s meals for the next week to get rid of the evidence, and I will make sure that no one ever has any cause to suspect me for anything.

“You hurt my boy and I will end you, so help me God. Are we clear?”

Whatever blood had been left in Castiel’s face fled rapidly, as the boy paled in fear. The teenager didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t sure if a response was needed or if the question was rhetorical, so he sat in stupefied silence for several seconds.

Ellen quirked a brow upward and repeated, “Are we clear?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Castiel was able to find his voice to eek out “Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t doubt for an instant anything she explained.

Seeming pleased with his response and the fear she saw in his eyes, she leaned forward and gave him a brief pat on the hand.

“I’m glad we understand one another, Castiel.”

Sliding out of the booth, Ellen found herself face to face with her son. She smiled radiantly at the handsome young man in front of her and told him to have fun.

Dean took in Castiel’s shell shocked appearance and his mother’s self-satisfied smirk and was able to put two and two together to know that his boyfriend had just been subjected to the ultimate Ellen Harvelle-Singer threat/lecture. Mentally face palming, Dean wasn’t sure what to do, things were just starting to get better and now his well-intentioned mother may have just set them back again.

Pulling himself together, Dean reached out and tentatively placed his hand on Cas’ shoulder. The other teenager startled at the touch, flinching slightly as though he was expecting a blow. Looking up to stare into concerned – and, yes, somewhat bemused – green eyes, the tension in Castiel’s posture bled out slightly.

“You ready to catch that flick, Cas?”

Castiel nodded, and together the boys walked out of the diner to continue their evening. They had a long way to go, but just maybe this was the start of their return to normal – or at least next to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think?
> 
> I'll be honest, even though writing some of this chapter was a lot of fun, I struggled a lot with this. I didn't want to make it seem like Dean was a doormat, that he would just accept what Cas did and get over it quickly. But, I do think that Dean has too big of a heart and is too loyal to stay mad at someone he loves - especially in light of Castiel's confessions to Dean. So, it was a razor's edge to walk. I know from talking with some of you that there were thoughts that Dean and Cas shouldn't get back together, and I struggled with that, too. Part of me was ready for Dean to move on - I even debated fully realizing the Dean/Gabriel flirting from the previous chapter. However, I felt that Dean and Cas needed to give it another go.
> 
> So, let me know what you think. I love to hear from you all - you are amazing and wonderful and have made this such an amazing experience. Are you happy Dean and Cas are back together? Should Dean have played hard to get a little more? We only have about eight chapters left, do you think it is time to break out the sunshine and rainbows - or do you think the dark clouds need to come back? Love to you all <3


	24. (The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys dress up to go on a date. General fluffiness ensues.

Castiel was having a tough morning. The creamy pale yellow of the tights clung to every muscle in Castiel’s thighs, making his legs look too thick. The teenager frowned in frustration as he tried to adjust the constricting material into a more comfortable position. He was just not made for nylon.

So far, he had been working to get dressed for approximately twenty minutes, and he was no further along than fully pulling a pair of stockings up around his waist. Glancing at the time, it was 9:30 in the morning.

 _Damn it!_ He only had about twenty more minutes to finish before Dean came to pick him up, and Castiel still had to shove his feet into the green elfish-style shoes, and shimmy into the bright red atrocity that was the leotard for the rest of his costume.

“Of all characters, why does my boyfriend have to have an affinity for Batman?” the dark-haired boy grumbled, without heat wondering how he got himself into this predicament. But, of course he knew…

*****

_Then:_

For several weeks, Castiel and Dean had been treading carefully to re-evaluate their relationship and create new boundaries. During that time, except for their first “date” at The Roadhouse, Dean had been content to let Castiel plan their activities. Dean never pushed for anything; he never complained about anything his boyfriend selected. At the end of each date, Dean simply gave Castiel a brief hug and thanked him for a lovely time.

That was why, the youngest Novak was somewhat surprised when the prior week, during one of their study sessions, Dean turned to look shyly at him and ask, “Cas, are you busy Saturday?”

“No,” replied a somewhat stunned Castiel. “I was just planning to spend the weekend with you, but I had no specific plans. Why? Did you have something in mind, Dean?”

“I dunno, man,” Dean said, crimson staining his cheeks. “I saw an ad online for a comic book convention this weekend in Sioux Falls. Thought it might be fun, something a little different.”

Castiel lit up at Dean taking the initiative to decide something for them. He thought it was adorable Dean was so nervous to ask to do something that was obviously important to him.

“Of course Dean, it sounds like a lot of fun,” the other boy replied enthusiastically.

“Do you think we could, maybe, dress up? I know a lot of people wear costumes of their favorite comic book characters,” Dean looked so hopeful, that Castiel had to chuckle.

“Who would you want to dress up as?”

“Oh, that my dear, is a surprise,” Dean laughed, delighted to have the chance.

The two returned to their homework, convention momentarily put aside, until Castiel thought of something that put a damper on his otherwise great mood.

“Dean, what about your treatment? Shouldn’t you be careful around so many people? Aren’t you starting your next round of chemo on Monday?” the questions poured out of a now-concerned Novak.

The younger of the two boys sighed. He was happy Cas was worried about him and was trying to look after him, but he just wanted a few hours where he didn’t have to think about being sick. He already was worried enough that Monday he did resume treatment.

Dean had just started to feel like himself again. Sure, he wasn’t able to eat as much as he used to, and he had to watch what types of foods he ate a little better – but he wasn’t in pain when ate anymore. So, yeah, he just wanted to spend an afternoon doing something nerdy, something that made him happy. Maybe his fears about his treatment made him decide to take the bull by the horns and suggest the date to Cas.

“I’ll be careful,” Dean said, trying for a cocky smirk, but not sure if he succeeded.

“That’s not the point, Dean,” Castiel said, annoyed with his boyfriend’s lack of self-preservation. “I won’t put you into a situation where you will get sick. I can’t go through that again.”

“Cas, man,” Dean tried, “I feel fine. If I start to get even so much as a little dizzy, I promise you, we will book.”

The other teen scrubbed his hand over his face, conflicted as to what to do. Dean hadn’t asked anything of him since they started dating again, so Cas wanted to give him this. Yet, at the same time, the thought of Dean getting sick, at him delaying his treatments again and the cancer spreading, made a pool of sick dread collect in the pit of his stomach. Thoughts of Dean pale, relying on tubes for his next breath, to feed him made Castiel start to panic.

“Hey, hey, Cas,” Dean knelt in front of his boyfriend, worry etched in each line of his face. “I’m right here. Calm down. I’m fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

The soothing timbre of Dean’s voice broke over Castiel like gentle waves, calming him and bringing him back to the present. Blinking, the blue-eyed boy cleared the specters of the past and brought his boyfriend’s handsome face into focus. Dean was in front of him, warm and safe and alive. Overwhelmed with emotion, he crushed the green-eyed boy into a fierce hug.

For several minutes, the two teenagers remained locked in their embrace until the young Novak was able to compose himself enough to pull back. He brought his hand up to caress Dean’s face, ever so gently, relishing the fact the other boy didn’t flinch away from the contact.

“Yes, we will go to the convention,” Castiel said, emotion still making his already raspy voice even deeper.

That promise was worth whatever discomfort Castiel would feel the day of the convention, just to see the other’s face shine with such brilliant, unrestrained happiness.

“Awesome!” Dean enthused. “I know exactly what I’m gonna dress up as. Now I just hafta get Ma to drive me.”

“I’ll take you,” Castiel said, somewhat confused why Dean wouldn’t want him around. “Shouldn’t our costumes match since we are going together?”

“I want it to be a surprise,” Dean said, still grinning like a loon. “’Sides, I’m sure you can probably figure out what I’ll choose.”

*****

And, that was the only hint that Castiel was given…which brings him to where he is now, struggling into a pair of almost too tight, tights and an unflattering leotard to complete his costume as Robin, the Boy Wonder and side kick to Batman. It was no secret that Dean’s favorite superhero is Batman. Castiel thinks he was dragged fifteen times to the theater to see _The Dark Knight Returns._ None of the Nolan-era Batman stories had the Caped Crusader with a sidekick, so Castiel decided to swallow his pride and go with the Adam West-Burt Ward era Batman.

“G-a-a-a-a-b-e!” Castiel screamed for his older brother. “I need you.”

Two minutes later Gabriel came bounding into his brother’s room, and promptly fell to the ground, peals of laughter running through him uncontrollably.

“Oh. My. God. Cassie,” Gabe gasped out between laughing fits, tears streaming down his face. “You look absolutely ridiculous. I thought your pie experiment was the funniest thing ever, but this…this takes the absolute cake. This is priceless.”

Castiel flushed with embarrassment, as much over the “pie” incident as his current state of dress. The “pie” incident happened about a week prior.

Trying to find little ways to show Dean just how special he was, Castiel decided to bake a pie from scratch. Before this, Cas had never so much as turned the oven on, so this was completely uncharted territory. He hadn’t realized how exact baking could be, and that you shouldn’t substitute baking powder for baking soda.

After the pie exploded, it took him four hours to get the oven clean again, with Gabriel filming, taking pictures, and laughing the whole time. His little shit of a brother even Skyped Dean so that Dean could laugh along at his boyfriend’s expense, too. Although Dean did tell him thank you for the thought of pie.

But, this right now, probably took the cake.

“Shut up and help me, Gabriel,” Castiel mumbled. “I need to get the cape on, and I can’t reach.”

Gabriel was able to calm himself enough to clamber off the floor and affix the satiny green cape around Cas’ shoulders.

“Perfect,” the older Novak declared. “You look like an absolutely delectable Robin.”

“Unnnh,” was the response from Cas.

His costume was finished just in the nick of time, because seconds later he heard the doorbell ring. He vaulted down the stairs to greet Dean.

“Whoa there junior crime fighter,” Gabriel teased. “Maybe you should let me open the door, huh? Don’t want you scaring away any of our neighbors, just in case it isn’t Dean-O.”

Castiel agreed. He couldn’t wait to see Dean’s face. The youngest Novak felt confident he nailed this. There is no way that Dean could be anything other than…

_Captain America!_

_What the actual hell?_

Dean and Cas stared at each other for several minutes, neither able to speak through their shock. Castiel couldn’t figure why Dean would be dressed as Captain America. Dean didn’t even particularly care for Marvel comics – sure, he liked the movies (who didn’t?), but his boyfriend always was more of a DC guy at heart. So why would he be dressed as Captain America, who Dean usually described as the goody-goody, bland killjoy of the Avengers? It was Castiel who loved Marvel, who adored Iron Man, who wrote fan fiction secretly about the burning love between Steve Rogers and Tony Stark…oh!

Finally all the pieces clicked into place for Castiel, and he just barely resisted the urge to slap himself upside the head. Dean dressed as the other half to Cas’ favorite non-couple, couple, thinking that Castiel would choose to dress up as Iron Man.

“I got the wrong memo,” Cas quipped sheepishly, breaking the silence between the two. “Thought you would go as Batman.”

Dean nodded dumbly, still unable to find his voice. He was openly gawking at Castiel and his Robin outfit.

“I could change,” Castiel suggested, feeling somewhat awkward under the intensity of his boyfriend’s scrutiny. “I could wear an Iron Man tee shirt or something, that way we could match?”

“Don’t,” Dean croaked out, finally finding his voice. “I like your costume. You look hot.”

Castiel could feel himself blush at the compliment, but was pleased, all the same. “But we don’t match.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean replied, holding his hand out for Cas to grasp. “You dressed as the other half of my favorite duo, and I did the same for yours. That just makes this kinda perfect.”

Both teens grinned at the other and walked out the door to make it to the convention.

The day was crazy. They took tons of pictures, met with other cosplayers, got autographs from their favorite celebrities, and got to listen to a ton of cool stories at the Q&A panels. However, after about four hours, Castiel could see Dean’s energy starting to flag, and he decided it was time for the two of them to call it quits – despite the fun they were having. To his surprise, Dean didn’t complain.

Driving home, the two relived some of their favorite moments from the day, and listed all the cool things they purchased from the vendors. They decided to go to Cas’ house, since it was the closest. Dean brought a change of clothes with him, so he was able to change in to a pair of jeans, a Rush T-shirt, and a flannel to be more comfortable.

They were laying on Cas’ bed reading the new graphic novels they picked up at the convention. Every now and then, one of them would point out something awesome in their book, and they would talk about it for a few minutes before returning to their individual stories. A warm, comfortable feeling settled between the two of them.

After a while, Dean let out a yawn so big that Castiel was afraid he was going to unhinge his jaw.

“Do you wanna go home?” Castiel asked, reluctant to let go of this odd, but wonderful day.

“I pro’lly should,” Dean slurred, fatigue creeping into his speech and his eyes drifting closed.

“Why don’t you stay here, just for a nap?” Castiel said. “I think you are too tired to make it out of the house right now.”

“K,” Dean replied. The taller boy turned on to his side, and tucked himself up snug against Castiel’s side, arms wrapping around the shorter boy’s waist in a cross between a cuddle and a hug.

Pleased that Dean was seeking affections again, after so long, Castiel eagerly returned the embrace, positioning himself in such a way that his cheek was resting against the spiky, but soft, tufts of Dean’s hair.

They remained like this for a minute or two, Castiel almost lulled into slumber, and believing Dean to already be asleep, he was startled when Dean spoke.

“Thanks for today, man,” Dean said, lingering on the edge of sleep. “It meant a lot to me.”

“It was my pleasure, Dean,” Castiel said, sincerely. “I’m glad I could share this with you.”

Castiel looked to see warm green eyes sparkling back up again. It had been too long since Cas had seen that fond, warm expression reflected at him; it made his heart flutter erratically in his chest.

“Sweet dreams, Cas,” Dean said, leaning up slightly to press a sweet, chaste kiss to Castiel’s lips.

The kiss was only a brief press between the two, but it was the first such contact they’d had since the Michael debacle. The feel of Dean’s lips to his, left a searing imprint on Castiel’s own. He felt the tingle of the contact long after they’d parted. He felt a warm, happy glow spread throughout him.

Yes, he felt uncomfortable dressing up and agreeing to Dean’s date, but he had to admit it was fun, and the perks of getting to snuggle with Dean and have a kiss, made it the best date ever.

Castiel closed his eyes, content to let sleep take him under for a nap, knowing his dreams right now could never be as wonderful as his reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant for this to be a completely fluffy chapter, but some angst sneaked in on me.
> 
> I also thought long and hard about what Dean and Cas should dress as. I didn't want Dean to go as Batman, because I thought that might be a little too obvious. My husband lobbied hard for Dean to be a Brony, but I wasn't so sure of that either. I kind of liked the idea of Dean as a DC guy who would dress as a Marvel character for Cas, and vice versa. My hubby and I are similarly split. He is a DC guy and I am a Marvel girl, so I liked using that dynamic.
> 
> What do you guys think? Are you enjoying it? I thought we needed a little longer break from some of the heavier issues, and I thought this fit nicely (plus it gave me another cheesy trope to use :-)). Would you rather have seen Dean as a Brony? Another character? What about Cas' costume? 
> 
> I love to hear from you, so please let me know what you thought. Thank you so much for sticking with me through this. Love to you all <3!!!


	25. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam have a conversation about their parents. Just a little Sammy and Dean bonding.

The Monday after the comic book convention found Dean curled into a tight ball in the middle of his bed, huddled under a pile of blankets. He was fighting against the pain and sickness, but also battling tears. That morning was the first chemotherapy treatment the young man had since his bout with pneumonia, and the teen was miserable.

He just settled himself back into his blanket fort after his twentieth trip to the bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach. The discomfort from the medication was bad enough, but Dean also was depressed. Today was a big day: Bobby and Ellen’s adoption of he and Sam became official today. Instead of being with his family at the courthouse, he was stuck with Gabriel, who was somewhere in the house. He couldn’t even celebrate properly; it really stunk.

Between spasms, Dean was able to doze into a fitful sleep. He didn’t know how long he was able to nap before he was awakened, moaning as another wave of pain struck his lower abdomen. Tears leaked down his cheeks as all his emotions roiled through him. The latest wave of discomfort just passed when he noticed a barely audible tapping at his door.

“C’mon in,” he grunted, removing his covers from over his head.

Not sure who to expect – heavens knows Gabriel wouldn’t knock, let alone tentatively – Dean was surprised to see his brother’s mop-top of messy brown hair peek somewhat shyly around the doorframe.

“Hey, De,” Sam greeted. “How’re ya feeling?”

The older brother didn’t want to worry his sibling, but he didn’t want to lie because they always promised to be honest with each other.

“It’s been a rough one, but I’m feeling a little better now,” he admitted. Plus, it was true, his spirits brightened a hundred times in getting to see his favorite little dude.

Sam grinned, but looked uncertain as to whether or not he should come closer or if his brother wanted to rest more.

“Get yer scrawny ass over here and keep me company,” Dean said, as though he was able to read the doubts flying through his brother’s head.

Needing no further prompting, Sam practically bounded across the room and gingerly settled himself next to his brother.

“Where are Ma and Dad?” Dean asked. Ever since Dean’s disastrous birthday, both of the younger Winchesters wanted a definite break from their remaining biological parent. From that day forward, the teenagers had taken to calling Ellen “Ma” and Bobby “Dad.” If the Singers welled up slightly with emotions, or shed a few tears at the new monikers, that was for them to know. The transition from Bobby and Ellen to Dad and Ma was so natural that none of the little family even noticed it.

“Ma had to finish up some paperwork with Balthazar,” Sam said, snuggling himself around his brother like he had since he was little. “And Dad said Ash called in sick, so he was needed at the shop. Also, Gabe said since I was home to ‘watch your sorry ass’ he was gonna go.”

Dean nodded in acknowledgment, and he contemplated what the completion of the adoption truly meant for him and Sam. This was a huge change in a lot of ways for them, but in the most basic ways it felt comforting and safe. For the first time since their mother died, Dean didn’t have to shoulder the entire weight of raising his brother. The brothers didn’t have to worry about moving every couple of months. They had a home, a sense of belonging, of permanence. In some ways, it was overwhelming.

The brothers were silent for several moments, and Dean felt himself drifting back to sleep again. It had been so quiet that when Sam spoke, his voice seemed overly loud and startled his older brother.

“What was she like?” Sam asked, uncertainty coloring his tone.

“Who?” Dean mumbled, sleep still trying to drag him under.

“Mom,” was the reply, said so softly it was almost a breath instead of word.

In that instant, Dean suddenly wide awake. Over the years, the topic of their lives “before” Mary Winchester’s untimely death was discussed only on rare occasions. John didn’t want her name brought up, becoming even angrier than usual if he heard his boys discussing their mother. Because of that, the siblings didn’t have a lot of opportunities to really talk about their birth mother. Dean was almost five years old at the time of her death so he had some memories that he fiercely guarded in his heart and mind. Sammy only had been a baby and never had a chance to know their mother. Of course, today of all days was the best time for them to have this discussion.

“She was beautiful,” Dean said softly, trying to bring his memories to the surface. “She had the best laugh in the world, whenever she laughed it sounded like a bell tinkling. I remember she loved to bake, and her favorite thing in the world to make was apple pie.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised at that revelation, suddenly understanding why his brother loved pie with such devotion. It wasn’t the pastry itself that captured his heart, it was the memories it invoked. Every time Dean ate pie, he must remember their mother.

“When Da…John had to work late at the shop, Mom would turn on the radio as loud as she could and pick me up and have us dance around the house until we got too tired, or collapsed into a fit of giggles,” Sam could see the faraway look in his brother’s eyes, and the tears that gathered in the corners, as he remembered these precious times.

“I remember when she told me I was going to have a little brother or sister,” Dean continued, ruffling Sammy’s hair fondly. “I had begged them for months that I wanted little brother, and just kept hearing that they would see. Then, one day, Mom was putting me down for a nap, and she was stroking my head and told me that in a few months we were going to have a new Winchester.

“I jumped up from the bed and started fist pumping and bouncing up and down. She explained to me that I was gonna have to be a big boy and be sure that I always looked out for you.”

Dean paused in his reminiscence, and Sam took the chance to ask the other question that weighed on him, “What was John like?”

“Different,” Dean said without having to think about it. “He was so affectionate. I remember he would take me outside on the weekends and we would play baseball. He bought me this crazy ass whiffle ball and bat. He would toss me the ball and I wanted so badly to hit it that I would spin myself around in a circle trying to hit the ball, but came up with nothing but air. John would just chuckle at me, and help me to adjust my stance and we would try again.

“I remember he smiled a lot more. He had these little crinkles that would scrunch up in the corners of his eyes whenever he was happy, and it was always my favorite thing to see.

“He loved Mom. I used to catch them holding hands, or him grabbing her lightly around the waist and spinning her around in such joy that they would just start laughing before breaking away with a kiss.”

Dean stopped talking and Sam felt the sobs his older brother had been holding back now wracking his body.

“I wish I could have known them,” Sam said after a few moments of reflective silence. “Both of them.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, sniffling faintly. “I wish you could’ve, too.”

“Do you think about it often? What it was like before?” Sam asked.

There was a pause and Sam was afraid he had pushed his brother too far and that he wouldn’t get an answer. He was starting to berate himself for pushing Dean so far, especially when Dean was this vulnerable after his treatment and the news of their adoption.

“I try not to,” was the somber response. “It hurts too much when I remember what we lost. Because when Mom died, we didn’t just lose our mother, we lost our father, too. Sure, he was around in body, but he buried his spirit the day he buried her remains.”

Sam felt himself nod along, he wasn’t used to his brother speaking so freely about emotions, but he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was that when Dean did get going, he was eloquent and profound in his observations.

“When I was sick…when the pneumonia put me in the coma,” Dean said somewhat nervously, “I saw her.”

“What!?” Sam asked, sitting up suddenly and pulling away from his brother. “You saw Mom? What do you mean?”

“It had to be a dream, in my deepest subconscious,” Dean amended quickly, not wanting his brother to think he lost his mind. “I felt like I woke at one point, and I was so scared because I was alone and disoriented. I didn’t feel any pain, though. I laid there for a minute or two and tried to get the strength to press the call button, but before long I heard a voice speaking softly – a voice, but I couldn’t see who it belonged to.

“I called out for the person to show themselves, and from the shadows Mom came forward, she was smiling at me as though I was the greatest fucking present in the world. I remember in my dream that I started to cry, and then I was embarrassed at myself that I see Mom for the first time in all those years and all I can do is blubber like a baby.

“She said, ‘Don’t be scared, sweetie. I will always be here with you. I have watched over you and Sammy for years. You have never been alone, and you never will be. I am so proud of the young men you both have become.’

“I couldn’t speak. Fucking years of things that I wanted to say to her and not a single one of them would come out. I felt so weak and tired.

“It was almost like she could read my mind. She said ‘I know you are hurting, I know you are weak, but you have to fight. It’s not your time yet, you still have work to do.’

“The only thing I was able to choke out was a quick I love you. I know she said that she loved me, too, and told me that I was going to need to wake up. I don’t know how much time elapsed after that, but I woke up, and you know the rest of the story.”

Both brothers had tears in their eyes at the end of Dean’s recitation. Sam didn’t know what to say. He believed that his older brother might really have seen their mother, but he thought Dean would scoff at him and call him a girl, like he usually did. For his part, Dean was too emotionally taxed after all his memories to say anything. Sam settled himself back down beside his brother, seeking comfort that had always been provided to him unconditionally. He never appreciated the fact that although he never knew his mother, and his father became warped by his wife’s death, Sam always had a home, and he always had taken it for granted.

“Thank you, Dean,” Sam said with all the sincerity and love he could convey.

“For what?” Dean’s brows pinched together in confusion, green eyes still overly bright from the tears he just shed.

“For everything,” Sam responded. “Thank you for raising me, for taking on the responsibility of a father, when you needed parents yourself. Thank you for giving me a home; I don’t mean the bricks and mortar of a home, but for providing me the stability of your affections and unconditional love, even when I hit puberty and became an absolute terror to everyone, especially you.

“You sacrificed so much for me, and never asked for anything in return.”

“That was my job,” Dean replied, trying to brush off his brother’s praise. “I had to take care of my pain in the ass little brother, didn’t I? That’s what Mom woulda wanted. She wanted us to be close. I remember her saying she never had siblings growing up and she wished she had. Because of that, she always wanted us to be close. I think she would be proud that we have the relationship we do.”

“And that’s because of you, De,” Sam stressed, not letting his brother duck out of this. “You always have been the glue that held our family together. You’re the reason that we ended up here with Ma and Dad. So do so much for all of us, but ask for nothing in return; so, I at least want to say thank you and I love you.”

“Shuddup,” Dean deflected, uncomfortable with all the emotions.

“No, I mean it, and I want you to hear me, even if we never talk about this again. I want you to know that I appreciate all that you have done for us. I am so proud to have you as my brother. I know we don’t get to choose our families, but even if I had a chance tomorrow to pick who I wanted as my older brother – I would choose you every time. Thank you. I love you,” Sam let the tears fall down his face unchecked, and willed his brother to believe what he said.

“I know, Sammy,” Dean said, finally, voice thick with tears and raw emotion. “I love you, too…Bitch.”

Sam couldn’t help the watery chuckle that came out. Leave it to his brother to use humor to even out a situation when it got too intense. He decided to let his big brother, his real-life hero, off the hook.

“Jerk,” he responded.

Both exhausted from the revelations of the day, the Winchester boys quickly fell asleep, tangled together like they were still little kids. The pair were so wiped out, they didn’t notice an hour later when Dean’s door opened slightly, and Bobby and Ellen peeked in to check on their boys. Smiling fondly, the parents made sure to be as quiet as possible, and backed out into the hallway, content their little family was safe and happy here at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really did think the angst and sadness would be coming to an end with the previous chapter. In my original plans, this chapter was a lot fluffier than what it ended up being. Still, I was glad that Sam and Dean got to spend some time together - we haven't seen Sam too much, so I was glad to have him pop up. Sorry for the lack of Castiel in this chapter.
> 
> We are getting into the home stretch. Only a couple more chapters to go. What does everyone think? Did you like Dean's "dream" of his mother while he was in the coma? I admit I ended up crying while writing this chapter.
> 
> I'd love to know what everyone thought. Thank you all so much for sharing on this adventure with me. I am beyond grateful to all of you.


	26. Something About the Way You Look Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean convinces Castiel to attend a hallmark in every teenager's life - a formal.

Despite being in the middle of his second round of chemotherapy, Dean was feeling remarkably better. The first treatment was hard, but the next had gone much better. His energy was so much improved on this second round that he didn’t feel like a zombie when he went into school for his weekly check in with his teachers.

Walking back into the school, Gabriel again by his side, Dean had a flash of déjà vu. Maybe Gabriel did as well, maybe that is why the older teen volunteered to chauffeur his brother’s boyfriend. Nearing Castiel’s locker bank, Dean visibly tensed, in his memory seeing Castiel kissing Michael.

“C’mon Romeo,” Gabriel teased, trying to shake Dean from his fears. “Time’s a wastin’.”

“Bite me, Novak,” Dean retorted.

“Aww, Deanie-Beanie, I didn’t know you were such a kinky bitch,” Gabriel said with a smirk and a wink. “Ask me again later, I don’t go in for public exhibitionism.”

Dean shook his head, heat spreading over his cheeks. Before he had a chance to respond, he was attack-hugged by the younger Novak.

“Oof,” Dean grunted in surprise. “Warn a guy, Cas. Jeez, it’s like you are excited to see me or something.”

The younger Novak smiled a wide, gummy smile at his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around the taller teen in a tight hug. “I am very happy you are here,” Cas said. “Are you staying for lunch, I have missed having lunch with you.”

Nodding in assent, Dean and both Novak brothers started walking toward the cafeteria. The trio were keeping up a steady stream of conversation about classes and upcoming movies when a flier caught Dean’s eye.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, stopping to read the advertisement closer. “How’s come you never mentioned the school’s having their spring formal this weekend?”

The darker-haired boy shrugged, “It wasn’t of import. I knew you wouldn’t be able to come and I didn’t want to go without you.”

Frowning slightly, Dean knew his boyfriend had been looking forward to the spring formal the whole year. As juniors, this was their first big official dance. Sure, there had been homecoming dances, but no one wore formal clothing to that dance, it was much more casual. Even before Dean and Castiel got together, they had talked about going to the event.

“Who says I can’t go?” Dean challenged, eyes sparkling in defiance.

“Dean,” Castiel said with exaggerated patience, “the doctor said you shouldn’t…”

“Screw the doctor,” Gabriel interjected. “If Dean-O wants to attend a cheesy, stereotypical teenage rom-com cliché, then let the disease ridden idiot go. He can take me as his date. I look gorgeous in taffeta.”

Dean and Castiel gaped at the other boy as though he had turned into an alien. Both younger boys took turns opening and closing their mouths to speak, but no sound was forthcoming.

“Um, thanks?” Dean tentatively ventured. After all, Gabriel was looking after him, in a way.

“No,” was Castiel’s much more decisive answer.

“Why, no?” Dean and Gabriel practically said at the same time. It was almost frightening.

“I am not risking your health over something as trivial as a dance,” Castiel declared firmly. “You are just starting to feel more like yourself. You still have another week of treatments to go, and I will not have your foolishly risking your well-being just to play dress up for a night.”

Realizing a new tactic was needed, Dean turned to Gabriel, “So, should we color coordinate for the dance? I was thinking puce would be a good color.”

“No, puce looks terrible on me, washes out my skin. Maybe we could get away with magenta.”

“I dunno, Gabe, where am I going to find a magenta suit in three days’ time?”

“The internet is a wonderful place,” Gabriel said, thoughtfully. “Of course, you really need to think about my corsage. I expect a beautiful assortment of flowers, no carnations – they make me sneeze.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at the pair’s theatrics. “You realize I am standing right here? I am not going to fall for this.

“Plus,” the younger Novak added, decided to change course, “Ellen and Bobby are never going to let you do this. And, even if they would let you, there is no way Dr. Roberts would let you. You are insane, all those people, all those germs, nope, never gonna happen.”

Gabriel had his back turned to his brother and sent a lascivious smile at Dean. The green-eyed boy inwardly cringed at that look, it meant Gabriel was going to play dirty. Not that Dean didn’t want to win this fight, he just didn’t know how far he was willing to push Cas, especially as they just had gotten back on an even keel again.

“Trust me,” Gabe mouthed to his friend. All Dean could think was _God help me, I am putting all my faith and trust into the most notorious trickster in Sioux Falls. I must be insane; or desperate._

In the blink of an eye, Dean found himself with an arm full of Gabriel. The shorter man was twirling Dean around in circles, dancing some sort of crazy version of a waltz. Despite himself, Dean started laughing and having a blast; the exertion from the movement causing a dusting of rose to color his cheeks, making his green eyes even brighter, and highlighting his freckles.

“You are a devious bastard, Gabriel Novak,” Dean whispered conspiratorially, continuing to follow his partner’s lead.

“Takes one to know one, Winchester,” came the expected reply. Dean couldn’t help but throw his head back in genuine laughter at the absurdity of the whole situation. Gabriel even went so far as to dip Dean at the end of their impromptu dance. Playing up their roles, the cheeky pair even had the audacity to bow to one another.

The teasing expression promptly was removed from Dean’s face when he caught his boyfriend’s eye. Dean had hoped Gabriel’s display would provoke the blue-eyed man to relent and take him to the formal; however, the look in Castiel’s eye at the moment was not conciliatory, it was predatory and dark. Dean found himself fighting the urge to swallow reflexively in worry. Gabriel would have pushed the issue a little further, but thought they might have won the battle.

“Get a damn suit,” Castiel practically growled, the slight possessive note in that tone causing Dean to shiver slightly. “I’ll pick you up at five.”

“Are you sure, Cassie?” Gabriel couldn’t resist prodding. “It wouldn’t be any trouble at all for me to take your boy toy…you know, in case you wanted to stay home and study.”

“Get your own damn love life, Gabriel,” Castiel snapped to his brother. “Leave my boyfriend alone. Now are you coming to lunch or not?”

With that the younger Novak left the hallway, leaving a chuckling brother and a befuddled boyfriend behind.

“I think we pissed him off,” Dean admitted, feeling somewhat bad at antagonizing the other teen.

“Naw, he’ll be fine. He just needs to live a little and not treat you like you’re made of glass,” Gabriel replied, surprisingly mirroring some of Dean’s own thoughts.

“We’d better go before he really thinks there is something going on with us,” Dean said with a small huff of laughter.

“Dean,” Gabriel said, reaching out a hand to grasp the other teen’s arm. “I want you and Cassie to have the normal teenage stuff; but, you have to promise me that if you don’t feel up to this, you won’t go.”

“Aww, Gabby, you worried about me? That’s sweet,” Dean snarked, thinking his friend was joking as usual.

“I’m not kidding, Dean,” the younger boy turned to stare at his friend and saw Gabriel’s normally twinkling hazel eyes were muted, concern evident. “I think of you as another brother – one that I didn’t necessarily want, but one that I got anyhow. Cassie wasn’t the only one who was torn up when you got sick the last time.

“I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my first girlfriend, when I was a little younger than you, got sick with cancer. It was an aggressive bitch, and the doctors weren’t able to do anything to stop it. All we could do was sit back and watch as it laid waste to her body, and eventually her mind. In the end, she couldn’t remember who I was, or who her parents were. We were just nice people who would come by to visit for a little bit.

“I relive some of those moments through you and Castiel. The pain I felt, I buried deep and covered it over with jokes and tricks, but there isn’t a day goes by that I don’t think of her. And, seeing you go through this, I am reliving some of it again. I know you aren’t her, I know the cancer isn’t the same, but the memories come back unbidden at times, especially when you had pneumonia.

“So, yes, I’m gonna joke and I’m gonna fight for you to have a normal go at things because you and my dipshit little brother deserve some good, but if I think for a minute that you are downplaying your condition, or you are making yourself worse for something as idiotic as a dance, I will string you up by your thumbs and torture you until chemo seems like paradise. Do we understand each other?”

Overwhelmed by all his best friend had just confessed, Dean merely nodded.

“Good, now let’s go eat before the jocks take all the good pizza,” with that Gabriel turned on his heel and disappeared into the cafeteria, leaving Dean to follow in his wake.

*****

Surprisingly, it was easy to convince Ellen and Bobby to let him go to the dance. They, of course, called Dr. Roberts to confirm it was okay. The doctor agreed with two conditions…Dean had to come to the hospital the day of the dance to have an injection of Cipro, a heavy-duty antibiotic. The drug was necessary to supplement the freckled-faced teen’s compromised immune system. The other condition was Dean and Castiel had to stop by the hospital on the way to the dance to show off their finery. Dean blushed and ducked his head at the request, but agreed, nonetheless.

Ellen went into full mother hen mode after Dr. Roberts signed off on the dance. She dragged Dean into Men’s Warehouse to get fitted for a new black suit. The two of them bickered like a married couple over what he was going to wear. Dean wanted to do something a little bit flashier, but his mother thought classic was a better choice. In the end, the compromised.

After buying the tux, they made sure to go to the florist and have a boutonniere made up for Castiel. Dean was obsessed with picking out the right flower: He wanted it to be something classic, but something that had meaning to it. Finally, he found the perfect bloom, and it was a close match to the brilliant sapphire of his boyfriend’s eyes.

All the plans were in place, now he just needed Friday to come so he could finally see his boyfriend all spiffed up for the dance.

*****

“De, c’mon, you’re taking forever dude,” Sam cajoled from outside the bathroom.

“Shut it, bitch, perfection takes time,” Dean called back, trying to stem him nerves.

“If it’s perfection you are looking for, you are going to be in there for the next fifteen years, because there’s only one perfect Winchester and that’s me, jerk,” Sam teased his brother.

Dean grumbled under his breath something about pain in the ass little brothers, but he couldn’t really put much thought into it; tonight was the big night. Sure, he and Cas had been out on dates since they got together, but this was the first time they would be out together in front of the whole school – it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

As he ran his hands through his spiked honey-brown hair for the hundredth time, trying to make everything look perfect, he heard the doorbell ring. His heart stopped beating for a second before restarting at five times its normal speed. Straightening his tie, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles out of his coat, and taking on last appraising glance in the mirror, Dean threw open the bathroom door and dashed down the steps to greet Cas.

His feet skidded to a halt when he reached the front door, Ellen and Bobby already had let Castiel into the house. Dean just had to stop and stare at his boyfriend. To him, Cas always was gorgeous, there was nothing about the other boy that he didn’t love. However, tonight, Cas was stunning: His perpetually messy hair had been tamed and was lying flat on his head; his suit was a dark charcoal – not quite black, but not quite gray – the enigmatic color of the suit highlighted Cas’ pale skin, and brought out the exquisite blue of his eyes. Around his neck, Castiel wore a crisp white tie that blended in perfectly with his creamy dress shirt, both of which were a beautiful contrast to the dark colored suit.

Dean didn’t have the words to express what he was feeling, and he felt woefully inadequate when he said, “You look amazing, Cas.”

If Dean was overcome at his first glimpse of Castiel in formal wear, it was nothing compared to the blue-eyed boy’s reaction to the other teenager.

Castiel had to lick his lips, which were suddenly dry at the breathtakingly beautiful sight of Dean Winchester in a suit. The younger teen looked like he was born to wear a suit. The compromise that Dean and Ellen agreed upon was the jacket and pants were a perfectly tailored black, with just the faintest hint of a pinstripe running through the fabric. Underneath the jacket, Dean wore a buttoned-down vest made of a shimmering silver material that was perfectly complemented by his tie and handkerchief placed in his breast pocket.

For the first time in months, Castiel thought his boyfriend looked like himself. Sure, he still was too thin and if you looked closely, you could see the port-shaped bump in his forearm, but he had a sparkle, a glow about him that had been missing for months. Staring at his boyfriend, Castiel knew he was looking at forever: This was the man he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.

Knowing he needed to say something, Castiel was able to croak out, “You, too.”

Ellen started fussing around at that point wanting to get pictures of the two of them, and wanted to make sure they both had their boutonnieres put on correctly. It turned out that both teens had obsessed about what flower they wanted to get the other.

Dean got Castiel a forget-me-not. He told Cas he picked the flower that reminded him the most of his eyes. He said he also liked the story of the forget-me-not: Legend goes that after God created and named all the flowers, there was one small group that had been overlooked, and the blooms called out “Oh Father, do not forget us, too.”

Castiel, eyes suspiciously moist after receiving Dean’s flower, pinned his own on Dean’s lapel. The flower he selected was a white lily, which meant it is heavenly to be with you. Dean was so overcome with emotions at that point, he leaned forward and kissed Castiel with everything he had.

When they finally broke apart, the shorter man leaned in and whispered, “You keep that up, and we never are going to make it to the dance.”

Dean grinned cheekily in response, but backed up and kept a respectful distance during the photos that followed. It was another forty-five minutes before the boys were able to get out of the Singer household.

“Damn, now I know how celebrities feel all the time,” Dean complained, rubbing his hand across his eyes. “I’m still seeing the flash bulbs flickering behind my eyes.”

“Well you’re the one who wanted to participate in this malarkey,” Castiel reminded his boyfriend. “So, I think it is only fair you have to suffer for it.”

Dean lightly punched Castiel in the shoulder for the jibe. “Less talking, more driving. We still have to swing by the hospital.”

“I think it’s sweet they want to see you all dressed up,” Castiel said, fondly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, trying to come across as grumpy, but Cas could tell he secretly was pleased with the attention.

By the time they finally arrived at the dance, it had been going on for about an hour – not that they were really worried about missing anything. Actually, it had been part of Castiel’s plan to miss at least an hour of the dance, that way he was limiting Dean’s exposure to potential viruses.

Entering the hotel ballroom that had been booked for the event, Dean had to admit it looked like the trappings of every stupid high school movie ever made, but he was entranced. It was hard to believe that he was healthy enough to be here, and was here with Cas, after all they had been through…it was kind of overwhelming.

“Shall we dance?” Castiel asked with an exaggerated bow and a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Oh my God,” Dean laughed, “never do that thing with your eyebrows again, you just reminded me of your brother.”

“Haha, very funny Mr. Smarty-Pants,” Castiel threw back. “Are you gonna dance with me, or am I gonna have to hit up one of the chaperones. Or are you making me be a wallflower tonight.”

“No, I’ll dance with ya,” Dean said with a happy grin. “You’re too cute to be a wallflower. I think I wanna show you off.”

Castiel’s smile was beatific and made Dean’s insides go all gooey.

“I want to show you off, too, Dean,” Cas replied.

The two took to the dance floor and began to sway in time to the music. They really didn’t try to dance, dance, this was just about being close and enjoying the moment.

For a while, neither teen noticed what song was playing, but eventually Dean found himself singing along.

_“And I can’t explain, but there’s something about the way you look tonight. Takes my breath away,_ ” Dean sang, his rich baritone, rumbling into Castiel’s ear. “I don’t think there could be a more perfect song for us tonight.”

“Yeah, it does feel right,” Cas agreed, rubbing his cheek gently along his boyfriend’s, enjoying the friction from both of their stubble. “I’m really glad you conned me into coming tonight Dean. This was perfect.”

The taller boy leaned over slightly and placed a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s lips, lingering for just a moment, so as not to get in trouble with the chaperones.

“Yes, it most certainly is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, I really tried to make this a 100% fluff chapter, but some sad stuff sneaked in.
> 
> The story that Gabriel tells about his girlfriend, is taken from a real-life experience from my brother-in-law, although his tale is actually sadder than Gabe's.
> 
> Thanks to the ever wonderful Wikipedia for the information on the white lily and the forget-me-nots. I love the story of how the forget-me-nots got their name, so I had to put it in here.
> 
> Lyrics are from Elton John's song "Something About the Way You Look Tonight."
> 
> We are getting close to the home stretch. There's actually three more real chapters of the story and the epilogue. We have a couple things to wrap up.
> 
> Here's my question for you all - would you like to see John Winchester come back? If so, has he changed? At this point, I have no plans to bring him back, but part of me thinks the story is a little out to sea without bringing a better conclusion to him. I am curious to know what you think.
> 
> Thank you, as always, to all of you who read and comment. I love each of you, and am so blessed to share this experience with you. Thanks again <3!


	27. Imagine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has his last chemotherapy treatment. The family hears the news from the doctor what to expect as the worst case scenario. Dean and Castiel imagine futures after cancer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry.

Dean stared idly at the PICC line in his forearm. The port had become so much a part of him in the past several weeks that he almost forgot it was there, most of the time. He only truly remembered it was there, just under his skin, if he tried to sleep on it, or on days like today, when he was having a treatment.

However, today wasn’t just another chemotherapy session, it was his last one. Today, he was going to the hospital to be admitted. He was going to have his final treatment, and then the doctor was going to monitor how he reacted to the treatment for approximately eight hours. Dr. Roberts was being especially cautious with this final round of medication because of the severity of infection Dean contracted during the second round of treatment. As long as there were no complications, the teenager would be put on a high dose of antibiotics through the port. Finally, he would be able to have the PICC line removed.

“You ready to go, baby,” Ellen called out, walking into the kitchen, where Dean was nursing one of his hated protein drinks.

Dean nodded, and got up from the table to put on his jacket.

As he made his way silently to the door, Ellen reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay, kiddo?” she asked, concern lacing through her tone. “You seem kinda quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Ma,” he replied. “I think I’m just a little anxious about everything. I mean this is it, this is what we have been working toward, and I just wonder what will happen if it didn’t work.”

Ellen blinked in shock. She knew her boy was having some doubts about the procedures, but over the past few days, he seemed more at ease than he had been since he received the diagnosis. To know that he had been hiding his fears from his loved ones was so typically _Dean_ , but so infuriating that she couldn’t help but slap him – lightly and with love – upside the head.

“How long ya been worrying ‘bout this, Dean?” she asked, eyes flashing with anger, making Dean take a step backwards.

“Since I was in the hospital,” he admitted a sheepish expression stealing over his face.

“And you didn’t once think to share this with your family?” Ellen asked incredulous. “Did you at least talk this over with Castiel?”

Dean shook his head in the negative, earning a fiercer glare from his mother.

“We will talk about this later,” she promised. “Right now, we have to make it to the hospital so we can get this damn treatment over with and get you healthy again.”

By an hour later, Dean was nestled into his usual chair in the patients’ lounge as the final dose of chemotherapy dispersed from the cartridge in his port and spread throughout his body. It wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as it had been the first time, but it couldn’t be considered pleasant.

As he sat and felt the familiar burning of the liquid as it rushed through his veins, he tried to distract himself. Usually, he would have his iPad to play games or re-watch episodes of _Firefly_ or read a book. This time, he was too tense. He kept cataloguing all the sensations that filtered through him. For as glad as he was that this was (hopefully) his last time to be hooked up to these machines, a part of him wanted to remember everything.

 _If I am lucky enough to survive this_ , Dean thought to himself, _I don’t want to take anything for granted. I want to remind myself of what this is like so that when I think things are bad, I can recall my time spent here and say if I could survive sitting having radioactive materials injected into my veins to combat a virus that was slowly eating away at my body, I can survive anything_.

Dean tried to remember how the windows had slight cracks in some of the panes, which made sitting near them in the winter virtually impossible, unless you wanted to freeze. He wanted to remember his favorite nurse – his first nurse, actually – Barbara. He wanted to be able to recall how gentle she had been with him. When he and Castiel had come to the hospital the night of the formal, Barbara had been on duty. She got tears in her eyes when she saw him all dressed up. He pretended to shoo her away, as though he were embarrassed by her fussing over him, but secretly he preened at the attention, and held on for a moment too long when she gave him a hug.

Barbara had seen him through some of his lowest points with care and compassion. However, outside of his family, no one had been with him more than Dr. Roberts. It was the good doctor who had Dean questioning what he wanted to do with his life.

The teenager always thought his aptitude lay with physics and mechanics, and he was quite gifted in that area. But, when he thought about all that his physician had helped him with – the good and the bad – he thought he might want to try that himself. He wanted to do something where he could make a difference, where he could help people, save lives. Maybe being a doctor would be that path for him.

Dean was pulled from his reverie when he saw his nurse for today, Sarah, leaning over him to remove the chemo cartridge from his PICC line.

“Okay handsome,” she said with a wink and a smile, “we are all ready to take you back to your room.”

Standing up, Dean realized he was a little less steady on his feet than he thought. He found himself leaning on Sarah’s arm for support. He realized the nurse may be slender, but it felt like she had iron running underneath her muscles that was helping to support Dean as they walked to his hospital room. Thankfully, he had the room to himself for the moment.

Once Dean was situated in the bed, Sarah came in and set up the I.V. drip for the antibiotic. The medicine would be administered over the course of several hours, during which the staff would be able to keep tabs on Dean’s vitals to make sure nothing got out of whack. As the young nurse was finishing up, Dean heard a familiar voice.

“Hello Dean,” Dr. Roberts said with a smile on his face. “How are you feeling today?”

The green-eyed teen rolled his eyes at the older man. “I’m peachy,” he replied, with only a hint of sarcasm.

“Don’t get smart with me, young man,” the doctor chided fondly. “I can make sure we withhold the really good drugs from you out of spite, if you don’t play your cards right.”

“I shudder at the thought,” Dean retorted. “What’sup Doc?”

It was the doctor’s turn to roll _his_ eyes. “Yes, like I’ve never heard that before.”

“C’mon, it’s a little funny,” Dean replied with a slight smirk on his lips.

“No, it’s really not,” Roberts replied. “Anyhow, I did come to talk with you about a few things – aside from Looney Toons.”

“Lay it on me, man,” Dean said. “That’s one of the reasons I asked the family to stay away today. I wanted a chance to talk to you first.”

The physician nodded his head slowly, “I figured that was the reason. I can’t say I approve, I would like you to have someone here with you. It always is better when you are getting a large amount of information to have someone else to help process it. Sometimes that person is able to retain something that you aren’t able to remember.”

“That’s why it’s a good thing I decided not to listen to him, then, isn’t it?” a gravel-laced voice rumbled from the doorway.

Dean didn’t even have to turn his head to know Castiel was there. He was torn between annoyance that his boyfriend had come, even though Dean begged him to stay home; and pleased that Cas cared enough about him to incur the Winchester wrath to be his support system.

“Castiel,” Dr. Roberts intoned. “Good to see you. I’m glad someone had the sense not to listen to my stubborn young patient.”

“We ain’t idjits,” said another gruff voice from the door that could only belong to Bobby Singer. “Never had any plans to listen to that dern fool boy. Jus’ wanted to make ‘em think we did.”

Dean sighed and resigned himself that his family was going to be here to surround him during this time.

Before too long, Ellen, Sammy, and Gabriel were filing into the room taking up their places to hear what the doctor had to say.

The older Winchester quirked a brow at his boyfriend’s brother, “You, too, man?” Dean quipped. “What did they promise you? I can get you more candy if you can get them outta here.”

“No can do, Deanie Poopoo,” Gabriel said, as he started licking on a lollipop. “You’re stuck with all of us. I’m here because you practically are my brother-in-law, so I figured I might as well pretend to take an interest.”

The young Winchester didn’t miss his boyfriend turning about six shades of red at his brother’s comment, but other than that, no one added anything to Gabriel’s outrageous statements.

“Okay,” Dr. Roberts cleared his throat to get the attention of all those gathered around Dean. “I just wanted to talk about where we go from here.

“As long as Dean doesn’t have any negative reactions to the medications we are administering tonight, we will remove the PICC line first thing in the morning, and as long as everything is in the clear – no signs of fever or infection – we will release him sometime in the late morning or early afternoon. I am going to give you a prescription for additional antibiotics. I want you to take them for the next ten days, just to make sure you are augmenting your immune system. I also would like you to take a multi-vitamin and maybe some Vitamin-C, just to try to get you on a more even keel.

“You probably are going to be tired for the next day or two, maybe even more so than previously because this was a particularly strong dosage. You are then going to have a week to recuperate and start to eat some more solid foods, if your stomach permits. Then, after the week has passed, we are going to have Dean come back in for a CT scan and a P.E.T scan to evaluate the illness. At that time we will be able to see how successful we have been.”

Dean thought about this and then asked, “What will we do from there?”

Hearing the timidity in his boyfriend’s question, Castiel reached out and gave a firm squeeze to the hand closest to him. Sam simultaneously did the same with Dean’s other hand – two of the most important people in his life being his pillars of strength to shore him up when he needed it most. Dean had to blink back the tears that he felt gathering.

“It depends upon what we see from the scans,” Roberts tried to hedge.

“Okay, what happens if the tumor still is there?” Dean persisted.

Dr. Roberts shouldn’t have been surprised. From the beginning, Dean had proven to be a very stubborn patient – it was one of the things that the doctor felt helped Dean through the process. If it hadn’t been for the boy’s tenacity, the doctor feared he would have died from the pneumonia he battled through. That didn’t make answering the question any easier. He didn’t want to give this little rag-tag family false hope, but he didn’t want to strip it from them either.

“If the scans come back with additional growth, or no significant shrinkage in the remaining portion of the tumor left after the surgery, we have to evaluate our options. We can talk about a second surgery to attempt to delve deeper to remove more of the tumor. However, I don’t know if this would be a viable option. The tumor was very precariously located in your abdomen, Dean, and I think if we would attempt to remove more, it would only cause additional damage to that area and cause you to have an even more difficult time digesting solid foods.

“The other option is to attempt more aggressive forms of radiation and chemotherapy. The effects of these treatments would be more intense than what you experienced this time. You most likely would have stronger nausea and would almost definitely lose your hair. Additionally, your bones would become much more brittle as nutrients would be leached from their composition. You would be even more prone to bruising and illnesses. Most likely the lining of your stomach would weaken even more, and we would have to insert a feeding tube to provide you as much nutrition as possible.”

All the air seemed to be sucked from the room at the doctor’s grave pronouncements. Although the practitioner never said the words, the small family knew if the tumors didn’t shrink or disappear completely from the treatment, Dean’s chances of survival were reduced even further. The thought was a sobering one that cast a pall on the previous jocularity of the group.

“That is a worst case scenario,” Roberts reiterated. “We won’t know for sure what we are dealing with until the scans come back.”

“Thank you, Doc,” Bobby said, finally able to find his voice. “We ‘ppreciate yer bein’ a straight shooter with us.”

The doctor nodded and then made a hasty retreat from the room. The Harvelle-Singer-Winchester-Novak clan stayed together for a few hours, each trying to buoy the others’ spirits. Finally they all left, per Dean’s request…except Castiel.

“You’re not getting rid of me, Dean,” he said, dark hair already mussed like he had just taken a nap. “I told you before, I’m here for it all.”

“C’mere then,” Dean said, scooting over as much as he could in the narrow bed. Castiel crawled in carefully beside him, being exceptionally careful not to jostle too many wires.

The two boys clung to each other like life lines, each lost in their own thoughts. Each trying to imagine what the future would hold. Both boys had positive and negative thoughts running through their heads.

Castiel tried to imagine a future without Dean. He shied away from that as much as possible…it hit too close to home. Not only had he had that terrible nightmare early after Dean’s diagnosis of what it would be like if Dean died. The younger Novak also had to deal with a Dean-less reality for a time after his stupid stunt with Michael. Cas became certain that Dean was going to pull through this, and he imagined what life would be like for them in college and beyond. Would they get married? Would they just live together? Would they have kids or not? There were so many happy things to imagine that Castiel fell asleep content those images would be of his future.

Dean had a harder time falling asleep. He was a naturally pessimistic person to begin with, so the thought of him making it out of this with a happily ever after, wasn’t really something he thought would happen; but, it was something that he imagined.

He wanted to grow old. He wanted to graduate high school, take a crazy trip cross country with Castiel and see the World’s Largest Ball of Twine. He wanted to stand in line all night to be first to see the midnight showing of the new Star Wars film. He wanted to be a surgeon – he didn’t care about fame or fortune – he just wanted to do something worthwhile that those who loved him could be proud of. Something that he could feel proud of every day. He wanted to have children – either adopting them or via surrogate.

But, most of all, in his fondest imaginings, he wanted to wake up every morning to Cas and go to sleep with him every night. Just a simple wish, really, to be able to spend the rest of his life with the one he loved. They had been through their share of ups and downs, and maybe he was a fool to open himself up to his boyfriend again, but life was too short, time too precious. Whatever he had left of this life, whether it be a year or seventy-five, he knew those years needed to have Castiel Novak in them.

Overcome with emotions that he usually could keep bottled up, Dean found himself remembering something his mother used to tell him each night before she would put him to sleep.

“Angels are watching over you, baby,” she would croon softly to him, as she bent over to give him a kiss on the forehead. “They’re gonna make sure you are safe when your Mama can’t watch you. They’re going to help you grow up healthy and strong.”

Tears coming unbidden to his eyes, Dean lightly kissed the top of Cas’ head – feeling the soft stroke of that thick, dark hair brush against his lips. To calm himself, Dean found himself doing something he really hadn’t done since he was a kid. Maybe the talk with Sammy the other day about their mother brought things back to the surface that he suppressed for years. Whatever the reason, he found himself talking to his mother.

 _Hey, Mom,_ he thought, quietly, but with extreme focus. _I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I like to think that you can. I’m kinda scared here. It’s not something that I want to admit to anyone else, but I’m pretty much shitting bricks here. I don’t wanna die. I know, no one wants to die, but I’m really not ready. There is so much I want to do. Please, Mama, please don’t let them take me. Please…please find a way to help me. I don’t know if you have any influence with the man upstairs, if there is a man upstairs, but could ya put in a good word for me._

_I miss you so fuckin’ much. I was telling Sammy about you the other day. I hope you would be proud of the kid he’s become. He’s awesome. I wish you could meet everyone. I know you knew Bobby and Ellen, who are basically my parents right now – not that anyone ever could replace you, I mean, but, yeah. I wonder what you would think of Cas. I like to think that you wouldn’t care if I told you I was gay. I imagine you would say you love me anyway._

_Please, Mom. Please help me. Give me the strength that I need to get through this. Please don’t let it kill me. Don’t let it take me._

By the time he was done, Dean was an emotional wreck. He remembered this was the reason he didn’t “talk” to his mother that often, aside from the fact that he felt a little childish and foolish to continue talking to her when she was gone.

Having tuckered himself out, Dean curled himself somewhat more comfortably around Cas’ slumbering form, and felt sleep start to pull him under. He fell so rapidly asleep that he mistook the bright light filling his room as part of a dream, but the lips that caressed his forehead felt familiar, comfortable, maternal.

As he snuggled close to his boyfriend, enjoying the comfort of his embrace, he felt something outside of their cocoon. He felt an old protective envelopment that was reminiscent of his mother’s love. And, if he imagined he heard a delicate, feminine voice softly signing his mother’s favorite song, “Hey Jude,” well that just helped him relax as he slept through the night and straight on until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for some reason that got a lot sadder than I meant it to be. I can't promise the next chapter won't have some feels with it, too, but I am going to try to lighten it up a little bit.
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think. I love to hear from you to see what is working, what isn't working. I will say from your comments, I have changed some things up from what I originally mapped out, so I definitely listen and take your opinions into consideration. So questions, comments, complaints, etc., let me hear them.
> 
> Thank you all, as always, for sticking with me. We are getting close to the end. I love you all.


	28. I Knew I Loved You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's doctor's appointment approaches, Castiel is acting strangely and Dean wants to know why. The answer will probably surprise him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I wanted to write and post this last night, but I got an unexpected Christmas gift, a sick kid - so I was up most of the night with her. Sorry for the delay - hope you enjoy the chapter.

The next week passed in every clichéd manner Dean Winchester had ever heard in his eighteen years of life. The week between his last chemotherapy session and the tests to determine his future was a contradiction in terms. Time seemed to both speed up and make it the shortest week of his life (when he was especially dreading the results); or it seemed time slowed down to make it the longest week of his life (when he just wanted to get this show on the road and see what the verdict was going to be).

Not only did the week seem to pass in odd intervals, but there was something strange between him and Castiel. The older boy seemed slightly distant. They weren’t spending as much time together, but when they were together Castiel seemed…off. Usually the pair had such a relaxed atmosphere between them, they would study side-by-side, or they would curl around each other to watch whatever crappy television or movie they could find. For the past week, even when they were supposed to be relaxing, Castiel seemed cagey, anxious, and fidgety.

Whenever Dean asked his boyfriend what was going on, Castiel always responded there was nothing wrong, or that he was just tired, or that he was stressed over a particular class. None of these answers seemed to jive for Dean – in fact, they only raised the young Winchester’s suspicions. When he and Cas re-started their relationship, Dean promised that he was going to trust his boyfriend again, despite the Michael incident. In the weeks since they had gotten back together, never once had Castiel given Dean reason to mistrust him. But, this was different.

Always wary to believe good things would happen to him, and possessing a self-esteem so low that you needed a crow bar to uncover it, Dean immediately started thinking the worst.

 _What if he only was dating me because I was sick?_ Dean would think to himself. _What if the test results come back with bad news; will it be too much for him to handle? Should I just let him go now, on my own terms? Yeah, it would hurt, but wouldn’t it hurt more to have him break it off? Is he still seeing Michael? Maybe he never broke it off with the other boy, and Cas just came back until I was done with my treatments? What if something is wrong with Cas? What if_ he’s _sick?_

So many thoughts swirled their way through Dean’s head, he made himself sick. And, that is how Castiel found him Friday after school – huddled over the toilet, clinging to the porcelain bowl for dear life, tears dripping down his face, and a fine sheen of sweat coating his body, causing his hair to be plastered to his forehead.

When Castiel first saw him, the blue-eyed teen immediately had flashbacks to a time not that many months ago, when Dean woke up in the middle of the night and vomited blood. Seeing a scene, so similar to that, made the smile freeze on Castiel’s face, his blood run cold, and his heart start hammering a hundred times its normal pace.

“Dean,” he exclaimed. “What’s the matter? Oh, my God! Is there any blood? Are you in pain? Do we need to take you to the hospital? That’s a stupid question, of course we need to get you to the hospital. Where’s Ellen? Is Bobby here? Sam still is at school, we can text him on the way.”

As Castiel kept prattling on, he was gathering things from the bathroom. He grabbed Dean’s glasses, so the other teen could see; he was looking for a change of clothes; checking to see if he could find Dean’s cell phone to text Ellen and Bobby.

“Cas, dude, chill,” Dean finally was able to pant out from his ignoble position on the floor. “We aren’t going to the hospital.”

Castiel levelled such a glare at the prone teen that Dean actually began to wonder if his boyfriend had some super-secret powers and really could smite him. It was kind of hot, not that he could really respond that well considering he was still clutching a toilet for dear life, and he definitely did not look his best.

“Dean Winchester, you are huddled on the floor, voiding the contents of your stomach into the toilet, this is something we need to have the doctors look at,” the dark-haired teen ranted. “I will not have your self-sacrificing bullshit interfering with your treatments and recovery.”

Despite the tenseness of the situation, Dean had to smile slightly at the other boy. Even when he was angry, Castiel still could sound so formal.

“Dude, I promise you, it’s not the cancer,” Dean said, pushing his arms underneath him to get up. If he and Cas were going to have a talk, he at least wanted to be on more equal footing.

Seeing Dean’s movement to rise, Castiel hurried forward and put his hands underneath the other man’s arms to haul him into a standing position.

“You can’t know that it isn’t the cancer,” Castiel reasoned, after Dean was off the floor and leaning on the bathroom sink for additional support, and Castiel’s arm still wrapped around his waist.

“Yes, I can know,” Dean sighed. “I got myself too freaked out about everything that is going on, and I think I just got everything churning too much. I’m fine.”

Cas huffed a mirthless laugh. “Do you think I don’t know that in Dean Winchester speak ‘I’m fine’ usually means the exact opposite?”

Dean’s eyes widened in shock. He didn’t think he was usually _that_ transparent. Did everyone know that, or was Castiel just better at reading him?

“That may be,” Dean answered cautiously. “But, in this case, I promise, I really am fine. Peachy, in fact.”

Castiel assessed his boyfriend, blue eyes shrewd and taking in every inch of the other’s face, looking for even the slightest evidence of a falsehood. Dean wanted to flinch under the scrutiny, but knew if he broke eye contact or seemed uneasy, his stubborn best friend-slash-boyfriend would have his sorry ass in the car in a flash on their way to the emergency room.

After several moments, Castiel seemed reassured, to some degree, by whatever he was looking for and nodded his head slowly.

“Okay,” he told Dean, authority radiating from his voice. “We are going to get you cleaned up and into some fresh clothes, then we are going to get you back into bed.”

“Aww, Cas, you should at least take me to dinner first before you get me into bed,” Dean said lacing as much innuendo into his tone as possible. “I don’t wanna get a reputation as being easy.”

“Shut up,” Castiel replied as a furious blush covered his entire face causing Dean to laugh at how easy it was to discomfit the other man.

Half an hour later, Dean was cleaned up and back into his bed where Castiel had set up a movie watching station. The youngest Novak also supplied Gatorade and some light snacks, including cheese and crackers (both easy for Dean’s digestion, and cheese was good for replenishing his calcium after his treatments). Once comfortably situated and happy to have the familiar scenes from _Guardians of the Galaxy_ playing on the television, Castiel saw an opportunity to finally speak.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Dean replied with feigned innocence, eyes never leaving the screen, even though he wasn’t really paying attention.

“So, you just decided you wanted to give me a heart-attack by making me relive one of the more horrific experiences of my entire life?” Castiel returned.

Dean rolled over, giving up the pretense of watching to movie, to study his boyfriend with confusion, “I don’t understand.”

Castiel ran his hands through his hair in his agitation, causing the raven locks to stick up at odd angles. “You are the most infuriating man I have ever met.”

“Yes, but you love me,” Dean tried for a teasing tone, but some of his previous insecurities seeped into the statement.

“God help me, but yes, I do love you,” Castiel replied, face softening. “I love you more than anyone in this world. I love you so much, it scares me.”

“So, what’s been with the whole standoffish routine the past week?” Dean challenged.

The other teenager broke eye contact and started playing aimlessly with the ragged hem of Dean’s Star Wars T-shirt.

“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to say something to you, but I didn’t know when to say it,” came the soft answer.

Dean scrambled to sit up, pulling himself away from where he had been comfortably spooning the other boy. If this was a conversation they were going to have, they were going to have it now – no more secrets between them.

“You tired of us?” Dean asked timidly, afraid to hear the answer. “I know it’s been a lot to deal with, especially starting our relationship in the middle of all this.”

Now it was Castiel’s turn to hurriedly sit up. The other teen, sat with his legs crossed – an imitation of a yoga pose, which Dean knew from the few yoga classes Cas dragged him to – and reached his hands across to take Dean’s into his own.

“No,” Castiel said empathically, leaving no room for doubts.

“Then what’s so hard to say to me that you need to work up the courage, it’s gotta be something pretty bad,” Dean reasoned, in true Winchester logic.

“You never have believed that you deserve to be loved, do you?” Castiel asked, head tilting slightly to the side, a slightly pained expression in his face.

Dean couldn’t think of a good response to this, so he averted his eyes and focused on where their hands were joined, enjoying the interplay of textures and sensations. He kept his gaze down until Castiel pulled one of his hands from the tangle and cupped Dean’s chin to force the younger man to meet his eyes.

“It is nothing bad, I promise,” Castiel said.

When it became evident that Dean still didn’t believe him, Castiel heaved a beleaguered sigh and extricated himself from Dean’s grasp entirely. The green-eyed teen immediately missed the warm and comfort his boyfriend’s touch brought, but kept his eyes on Castiel as the other teenager started to pace, movements jerky and uncertain.

“I wanted to do this right,” Castiel muttered under his breath. “I was planning to do this after you got your results, but as usual you are too damned stubborn to let me do things the way I want to do them.”

Cocking his eyebrow in confusion, Dean watched as Cas came to stand right in front of him.

“Just remember, you have no one to blame for this but yourself,” Castiel reprimanded.

Before Dean could come up with an adequate reply, he found his lungs suddenly forgot how to function and his heart rate accelerated, because why was Castiel kneeling before him…on one knee?

“Dean Winchester,” Castiel rumbled, voice slightly lower than usual and a little shaky with nerves, “I have loved you for years. Part of me thinks I loved you from the first moment I saw you. Never before had I met someone as handsome as you; but, it was more than that. You have such a strength of character that I have never seen in another person. You are brave, selfless, generous with your time and abilities, loyal to a fault, protective, gentle, caring, and loving. I never wanted to push you, or rush you into a relationship, I would rather have you as a best friend than to lose you by making you uncomfortable with a romantic relationship.

“I pushed down all my love and channeled it into friendship, and told myself it was enough. When you got sick, I realized I didn’t want to ever have regret that we could have been more, and I was so happy to know you felt the same way. Yes, it was an unconventional way to begin a relationship, but you and I always had a more profound bond, and conventional just doesn’t seem to work for us.

“I’ve made mistakes. God knows I fucked up big time and almost destroyed us, and I have never been as grateful to your generosity of spirit as when you gave me another chance, when you gave _us_ another chance.

“I know we are young, I know we still have a lot to face with your illness, and college, but I know this as sure as anything, I love you with every breath in my body, I love you with every thought that runs through my head. I know that I want to go to bed each night tucked in beside you, knowing that you are there to stay. I want to wake up each morning, curled around you. I love you so much that I am terrified.

“I have been distant this past week because I am fucking terrified you will say no. That you will say it is too soon, that you don’t want forever with me. You worry that good things don’t happen to you? I have never been more afraid than I am at this moment because you truly hold my future in your hands.

“We don’t have to get married tomorrow or next week or next year. We can wait until we are done with school. I just want you to know that this isn’t some phase for me, something that I am going to grow out of. I will never take you for granted again, I will never want to be with anyone but you.

“So, Dean Winchester, the first and last love of my life, will you marry me?”

With that last statement, Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black box. He fumbled with it, fingers shaking with his nerves, and opened the lid to reveal a beautiful silver band, the only adornment a carved infinity sign on the top with a small sapphire in one of the loops and a small emerald in the other – the joining of Cas and Dean forever.

Dean gaped at his boyfriend, overwhelmed and slightly disbelieving. Was Castiel being serious right now? Looking at the earnest expression in the other boy’s eyes, Dean was going to believe that he was. He was trying to process everything, this was crazy; but, it felt right. He wasn’t sure he was ready for them to get married now, but he wanted this. He wanted forever. God help him, the chemo was making him sappy, but he wanted the white picket fence, the cute little house, the cat that Castiel always had dreamed of, kids. Yes, Dean Winchester, son of the manliest of men, wanted an apple pie life with his husband.

As Dean processed all his thoughts and emotions, he didn’t realize he had been quiet for quite a long time after Castiel asked his question.

“It’s okay,” Castiel said, resigned and with great sadness in his voice. “I understand, it’s too soon. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung this on you, please forgive me. I hope this doesn’t make things too…”

Castiel never got a chance to finish his sentence because he found himself attacked by the younger man. Dean was kissing him as passionately as he ever had, pulling on Cas’ shoulders until the other teen was off his knees and climbing back onto the bed.

“Yes, you dumbass,” Dean said several minutes later, breathless from their kisses. “The answer always was going to be yes.”

Castiel reacted by peppering butterfly kisses all over his fiancé’s face, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Dean said. “I would be happy to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The grin Castiel beamed at him was so breathtaking that Dean’s knees would have buckled, if they weren’t already laying down.

“I think we should wait a little before we actually tie the knot,” Dean said, after they decided to take a break from attacking each other’s faces. “Our parents probably would push for us to be done with school, first.”

“And you,” Castiel urged, nuzzling his nose in the juncture between his ear and jaw. “What do you want?”

“I want to wait until we hear from the doctor, for sure,” Dean said, reality impinging upon his blissful happiness. “I am a little nervous to plan for a future when I don’t know for sure if I have one.”

Castiel immediately put his fingers over Dean’s lips, effectively shushing him. “We have to think positive, Dean. So, if your illness wasn’t a factor, which we’re going to say it’s not, when would you want to get married?”

“Two years,” Dean said, without hesitation. “I think that gives us enough time to set aside some money, plan a small ceremony. It also will give us a chance to get settled into college and that routine. I think it also will help our parents feel a little better with it.”

Dean’s pronouncement was greeted with a giant hug and another enthusiastic kiss from Castiel. “That sounds perfect.”

The two teens talked and planned what they would like for the future, nestled happily in their own bubble where nothing bad could reach them.

Sometime later, the front door opened and Dean heard Ellen call out to see if he was home.

“Yeah, Ma,” he replied. “We’re up here.”

“Well get your asses downstairs for dinner,” came his mother’s reply.

“Should we tell them?” Castiel asked as they reluctantly pulled themselves from the bed.

“Pro’lly,” Dean slurred as he stretched, popping all his bones back into place after laying for so long. “But, I’m gonna leave that one to you.”

Castiel paled in horror, “What? Why?” he stuttered.

“You asked me, dude,” Dean smirked mischievously. “The dude who proposes is the one who has to tell the families. I don’t think Sammy will give you that much trouble. Dad might threaten a little, but he’ll be fine.”

“Dean Winchester! Castiel Novak!” Ellen yelled up the stairs. “Don’t make me have to repeat myself.”

“Yeah,” Dean supplied, grin taking over his entire face. “Ma might not take it so well.”

Castiel paled, remembering his last “heart to heart” with Ellen, after he and Dean started dating again. He wondered if he was going to be able to get married, Ellen might hurt him in ways he would never recover from.

Chuckling at his boyfriend’s anxiety, Dean had pity on him and wrapped his arms around the shorter boy’s waist, pulling them flush.

“Don’t worry, you big scaredy cat,” Dean chuckled into his fiancé’s shoulder. “We’ll face it together, just like always.”

Castiel returned the embrace, enjoying the warmth the other boy provided. Yes, together sounded pretty great. They could do anything as long as they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I actually wrote a chapter that wasn't terribly painful. One last real chapter, and an epilogue. I hope you all are enjoying. I hope to have the next chapter up tonight, as usual.
> 
> Happy holidays to everyone!


	29. Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has his much anticipated doctor's appointment to get his test results.

“Damn it, Cas, you should be in school, not escorting me to this stupid doctor’s appointment,” Dean grumbled to his fiancé, as the pair sat in the backseat of Ellen’s beat up SUV, Ellen at the wheel and Bobby beside her.

Today was the big day, when Dean was going to learn the results of the tests he had done yesterday. Castiel had fought hard to be with the other man as he endured the P.E.T. scan and CT scan that were supposed to determine his cancer’s progression or regression. Dean, Ellen, Gabriel, and Hael all held fast that Cas needed to be at school during the testing as there was nothing he could do. The youngest Novak tried to argue that he could be there for moral support, but that was quickly shot down by all parties.

The compromise they came up with was that Castiel agreed to go to school when Dean had his tests, but he would be able to skip the day of the results. That way he would be able to provide either comfort or consolation to his love. Not to say that Dean was pleased that his fiancé was missing school on either account.

“Both of us shouldn’t have to be out of school, Cas,” Dean countered. “You go, I’ll text you as soon as I know anything.”

“I’ll be useless at school, Dean,” Castiel fired back. “I won’t be able to concentrate on anything they are teaching, and all I’ll be doing is looking at my phone. I’ll probably be looking at my phone so much that they’ll end up taking it from me, and then I’ll miss your text when you do have news, and then I’ll just work myself up into a massive panic and have to be taken to the nurse, and then…”

“Alright, alright, Jesus,” Dean interrupted testily. “Enough, you wanna come you can come, but that doesn’t mean I am on board with this, _capiche_?”

Castiel nodded eagerly, “Yes, I _capiche_.”

Although Cas was successful in his plea to accompany Dean, Sam was not as lucky. His efforts were easily rejected by all parties and no amount of puppy dog eyes or begging made anyone change their minds. Dean felt badly for the rejection in his brother’s eyes, but he was nervous enough with Bobby, Ellen, and Cas being there, especially if it was bad news, to have his kid brother there, too, would be completely overwhelming.

Even though Ellen, Bobby, and Hael relented to allow Castiel to tag along, this didn’t mean the boys were completely off the hook with the surprise news of their recent engagement. The adults were flabbergasted at the news and made the expected objections that the teens were too young, they needed more experience, they needed to wait to make so big a commitment. Arguments Dean and Cas patiently replied to time and again.

Both sides called a truce to reduce the amount of stress for Dean when he met with Dr. Roberts, but promised to revisit the issue again once everything was resolved.

The ride to the hospital, per usual, did not take a long time. Dean actually wished it would take longer, he wanted more time to prepare himself. At the same time, he wanted to stay in the car and beg Ellen to turn the car around so he could go home and hide under his blankets and maintain the illusion that everything was going to be okay. As much as he wanted to avoid this appointment, he knew his family wouldn’t let him, and he would be damned if he was going to come across as a whiny bitch about this. He was going to do what John Winchester always trained him to do; push all his fears down and man up to face whatever was in his path with no emotion – emotion at this point was his enemy, if he gave in to his emotion, he was going to embarrass himself, and he had come too far to breakdown now.

Twenty (very nerve wracking) minutes later found the quartet seated in a comfortable office waiting for Dr. Roberts. Dean tried to keep his fidgeting to a minimum, but he was having difficulty, especially as the minutes ticked down. He was almost ready to get up and start pacing when the door swung open, and a very frazzled looking physician walked into the office.

Seeing the doctor’s disheveled appearance, Dean’s heart immediately sank to the pit of his stomach. Every time the teenager had met with his oncologist, the older man was impeccably dressed and well-groomed – to see him looking anything less made Dean worry that his news was not going to be good.

“Dean, Bobby, Ellen, Castiel,” Roberts said hurriedly as he settled himself behind his desk. “Sorry for the delay. There was a scheduling mix-up.”

The doctor pulled up some information on his computer, and turned to face Dean completely.

“Dean, I know this has been a long road for you, I don’t want to keep you waiting any longer, but I just want to make sure, do you want everyone here with you, or would you rather it be just the two of us?” Roberts asked.

For a split second, Dean hesitated. Part of him wanted to hear the news alone and find a way to tell his family on his own terms (if at all), if the news was bad. In that moment of indecision, the youth felt gracefully long fingers tangle with his left hand, and he glanced down to see Cas’ fingers intertwined with his, gently lending support. From his other side, he felt somewhat shorter and somewhat more delicate fingers grasping his tightly from Ellen, lending him her strength. He knew in that moment, he couldn’t and didn’t want to do this alone. He wanted his family with him to build him up and keep him strong.

“No, we are going to hear it together,” Dean said, voice firm and unwavering, despite the growing pit of nerves in his stomach. He thought he was going to throw up.

“Between the initial surgery and the aggressive form of chemotherapy we embarked upon, the tumor is gone,” Dr. Roberts said, with a smile on his face. He couldn’t help but drop some of his professionalism, he was pulling for this kid and his family. “From what I can see on your P.E.T. scan and the CT scan, it is safe for me to be able to declare you are officially in remission.”

Dean’s world stopped turning. He was overcome with what the doctor had just said. He had prepared himself for so long for the worst, to hear that it was over…really and truly over, it almost seemed too good to be true. In fact, he wondered if he heard the doctor incorrectly, but as he peeked over at Castiel and back at Ellen, he found both of them wearing huge, joyful smiles, with just a few happy tears making their presence known.

“Because you did have a particularly malignant form of cancer, we are going to want you to be monitored regularly,” the doctor continued. “You will want to be evaluated every six months for the first three to five years, and then annually thereafter.”

Sure, it stunk that he was going to have some remnant of this black cloud hanging over him for the rest of his life, and the possibility that it would come back, but that was such a small price to pay for his freedom now.

At that moment, the teen tried to find the words to express his gratitude to Dr. Roberts. Dean wanted to thank his family and Castiel for all they had done for him. Each time he started to speak, he found it impossible to form the words over the lump in his throat. Finally, he couldn’t keep it in any longer – John Winchester’s shitty parenting be damned – the tears started flowing down his face. All the emotions he tried so hard to keep in check, all the fears that he hid from his family that had been gnawing at his subconscious day and night since the initial diagnosis, everything came pouring out in a torrent of tears.

Understanding the weight of today’s news and the burden he had to bear, Castiel, Ellen, and Bobby never said a word. They rallied round Dean and showered him with affections.

“Shhh, baby,” Ellen cooed softly into his ear. “It’s okay to let it out. Everything’s okay, baby. Mama’s here. You’re fine.”

His adoptive mother’s comfort was paired with the choked comfort from his fiancé, who probably was crying as much as Dean was. Castiel never admitted it much, either, but in his deepest nightmares, he still dreamed of losing Dean. Too many nights had Castiel dreamed of various ways of losing the love of his life. Each time made him awaken crying, heart thudding and breaking under the weight of his fear. Dean wasn’t the only one letting go. The two boys truly needed each other more than ever.

Realizing he was having a not-so-minor meltdown in his doctor’s office, a doctor who had just given his a new lease on life, Dean tried to find his voice. He wanted to find a way to tell the doctor thank you for everything, for not giving up on him. In the end, it took him five tries to be able to mutter two words.

“Thank you,” the teen said, looking so much younger than he had when he came into the office earlier in the day.

“You don’t need to thank me, Dean,” the older man said. “You were the one who did most of the work. You were the one who fought harder than anyone I have ever seen. You battled through adversities and came out stronger. I expect to hear and see great things from you when I see you again in six months, Mr. Winchester.”

Nodding at the words, Dean and his family murmured their thanks again, shaking the doctor’s hands as they left. Stumbling into the reception area, Dean thought the other patients probably thought the teen received terrible news with the tears flowing down his face, and his red-rimmed eyes. The little family still was too much in shock to even allow themselves to smile too broadly for fear it is all a cruel illusion to be shattered if poked at too hard.

When they made it out to the car, Bobby took the wheel as he was probably maintaining his composure somewhat better than all of them, although he had a few tears fall in happiness over his boy’s recovery. Ellen took the passenger’s seat, and the boys huddled up against each other again. As Bobby put the SUV in gear, Dean was able to rouse himself slightly.

“Dad?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, son,” came the response.

“C-Can I stop by Sammy’s school?” Dean asked, somewhat hesitantly. “I wanna tell him the news.”

“I think that is a perfect idea,” came the response from Ellen.

Less than ten minutes later, the family tumbled out of the car at Sam’s middle school. They walked into the office and asked if Dean could go to Sam’s classroom.

“This is highly irregular,” the principal, an older, balding man named Mr. Adler said with some disdain. “I do not like the idea of my students’ day being interrupted for so frivolous a reason.”

That was probably the absolute worst thing he could say, because within seconds Bobby and Ellen were glaring at him.

“You mean to tell me that a boy wanting to share with his kid brother the amazing news that he is no longer dying of cancer is ‘frivolous?’” Bobby growled.

“We are Sam Winchester’s adoptive parents, and we are asking to have our boy removed from his class so his brother can ease his worries,” Ellen reiterated. “This probably will improve Sam’s concentration for the rest of the day.”

In the end, Adler relented and Dean found himself being escorted by a burly security guard to his brother’s classroom.

When they arrived at the correct room, the guard knocked on the door and stuck his head inside, asking the teacher if Sam Winchester could come outside for a few moments. The teacher sounded slightly disgruntled at the interruption, but allowed the younger boy to leave.

Sam didn’t see Dean at first, as the older boy was somewhat obscured by the guard’s girth. Dean, however, had a perfect vantage point of Sam and saw the absolute terror etched on the younger boy’s face. Wanting to alleviate his fears as quickly as possible, Dean stepped around the guard and insinuated himself directly into Sam’s line of sight.

“Heya Sammy,” he greeted with a small grin.

“De,” the younger boy ran toward his brother and embraced him in a death grip, almost as though he were afraid if he let go, Dean would disappear and he would never see him again. “What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the doctor?”

“Already done, little man,” came the reply.

“And…” Sam drew out the word with exasperation and pulled away slightly from his brother’s embrace.

“It’s over,” Dean said simply only to be greeted with his brother’s crumpling expression and tears starting to trickle down his face. _Damn it, Winchester,_ he thought to himself. _The kid probably thinks you’re dying, ya idjit._ And, he had definitely been hanging around Bobby too much with that one.

“No, Sammy, it’s okay. I’m okay,” Dean reassured, pulling his brother into another bone crushing hug. “Doc gave me a clean bill of health. I think you are going to be stuck with me for a long time, bitch.”

Sam started crying even harder, clutching to his brother, still afraid to let go. Despite Sam’s head being buried in Dean’s chest and the sobs that were wracking his slender frame, Dean still could hear his brother’s customary – albeit watery – retort of, “J-J-Je-Jerk.”

That night the entire Winchester-Singer-Harvelle-Novak family went out to celebrate, including Hael and Gabriel. They had thick, juicy burgers (Cas’ favorite) and some of the best pecan pie north of the Mason-Dixon line (Dean’s favorite). They laughed and told jokes, and just generally basked in the security that they were altogether and healthy and in love. Although the adults never would admit it, this was the night they gave their blessings on Dean and Castiel’s engagement. The boys had been through so much, both good and bad, with each other, and they still were each other’s support systems. So, yes, they would make the boys sweat for a few more months; they would pretend to oppose the marriage, but they knew they would consent, and they would be the biggest planners of the wedding when the time came.

*****

After everyone went to sleep that night, Dean found his body still thrumming with energy. He couldn’t wrap his head around everything that happened in the past six months, let alone the resolution of this.

Dean looked over and saw Cas snoring lightly next to him, lips parted slightly, just a few locks of thick raven-colored hair falling over his forehead, blue eyes obscuring by his sleeping lids. In that moment, Dean was surer than he had ever been that he and Castiel were meant to be, and they were so lucky to have survived these months together.

Not wanting to disturb Castiel’s much needed sleep, but knowing he wasn’t going to be going to Dream Land any time soon, Dean carefully wiggled his way out of Cas’ embrace, and padded downstairs to the living room. He had an idea; he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not, but it was one he was going to follow through with and not allow himself to second guess.

Several months ago, he had written each of his loved ones a note to express what he felt toward them in case his treatment didn’t work and he died. When Cas’ found those notes, it caused him to have a nightmare that Dean was going to commit suicide, and left Dean to explain he just wanted to find some lasting way for everyone to know what he thought of them.

The only person’s letter he had not been happy with at the time, had been his father’s. He wanted to correct that, tonight. But more than that, he wanted to actually send the letter to his father. He was able to find some paper and a pen, but he didn’t know what to say. How could he say everything he truly wanted to say? Wouldn’t that make him a bad son?

He debated and argued with himself until he finally decided he just needed to write what came from his heart. The next morning, he made sure the correct postage was put on the letter and it was on its way to its final destination. Whether John would actually read it or not, Dean would never be able to say, but he was glad to finally be able to put everything on paper.

There had been several drafts of the letter that John Winchester received about a week later, but the final version read:

_Dear Dad:_

_I know when last we spoke, you made it abundantly clear you wanted nothing more to do with me – that hurt me more than I can say, but I will honor that desire. However, there are a few things I thought you might like to know. I am not good with words, an inheritance from you, in fact. You never wanted me to express my opinions, you just wanted me to blindly obey without thought. Because of that, I do not have the felicity with words that Sammy does, but I will try to say what I need to say._

_First, you might want to congratulate me, as your eldest son, your first-born. I just got engaged. Yes, it was a surprise to me, too. Castiel and I decided in light of my health problems, life is too short, and we don’t want to waste a minute of it. So, we have decided to get married. It probably won’t be for another year or so, but it is imminent. Don’t worry, I won’t invite you to your gay son’s wedding. Ma and Dad will be there to give me away, so that’s all the parental representation I need._

_Second, Mom’s death was not my fault. It wasn’t Sammy’s fault. It wasn’t your fault. It was an awful, terrible accident. The worst part of that accident was that I didn’t just lose my mother that night, I lost my father, too. Sure, I had the occasional company of a man who wore my father’s face, but my real Dad? The man who read me Dr. Seuss before bed, who taught me to tie my shoes, who tucked me in to bed each night? That man died the same night as my mother. I don’t know if you ever realized how much of yourself you lost, I didn’t realize it for years. And, I feel sad for myself to have lost my father, but I feel worse, in some respects for Sammy, because he never got to know either of you. I still have memories of happier times. I tried to overlook a lot of your neglect and abuse because I remembered what you were like before. Sam never could look past what you did, but that’s because you were all he knew. I tried to make it up to him, be the father that you used to be and never would be again._

_Although a part of me misses you every day, I have to say you probably made the best decision in abandoning us. Bobby and Ellen adopted us, and we are finally getting settled into a life with them. It is nice to know I don’t have to worry about paying the rent, or the utility bills. I can stop being Sammy’s father and just be his brother again. It is amazing._

_Lastly, I wanted to tell you my surgery and chemo treatments were a success. I just found out today that I am cancer free. There will be some follow up shit I have to do to monitor my health, but for the most part it is all good. I don’t know if you even care. Maybe you were hoping the cancer would kill me and rid the world of one more fag. Sorry to disappoint you, Dad, but I guess that’s all I ever do, so I shouldn’t change now._

_There is more that I probably should say to you. I could probably fill up an entire notebook with things I want to say to you; but, I find that I don’t want to waste any more of my time and effort thinking about what might have been. Life is too short. I had to come face to face with the eventuality of my immortality at far too young an age, but I think that will mold me into a better man._

_I’m sorry things ended up this way. Maybe one day we can try to build a relationship again. I would be willing to talk second chances, but I don’t think you are ready for it. I hope we will see each other again someday. In the meantime, take care of yourself._

_~Dean_

After addressing, sealing, and stamping the envelope, Dean put it in the mail for the next day’s delivery.

Exhausted after his mental catharsis, Dean climbed the steps again and snuggled deep into his black covers. As soon as he settled in, he felt Castiel’s body snake around him, as though the other boy was waiting for him to come back to bed.

Dean kissed the top of Cas’ head and started to drift into a dreamless sleep. He went to sleep content. He had a wonderful fiancé whom he loves, an awesome little brother, kick ass adoptive parents, great friends, and a clean bill of health. He fell asleep thinking to himself, _“It doesn’t get much better than this.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blubbered like a baby writing this, but I was pleased with how it turned out.
> 
> I figure a happy ending would be the best Christmas/Holiday present I could give all of you who have stuck with me through this roller coaster ride.
> 
> Sadly, this is the last "official" chapter. There still is an epilogue to come. I can't believe this story went by so fast. I hope it has been a good ride for all of you. I will see you in the finale.
> 
> In the meantime, let me know what you thought of the chapter. Were you happy with how Dean resolved the issue with John? I'm not saying I'm done with John, I'm just saying I might be. Thank you all so much for sticking with me; I appreicate your support and your comments. Love to you all.


	30. Epilogue: A Thousand Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We reach the end of our story...or have we?

_Three years later…._

No matter what he did, Castiel could not properly knot a tie. Usually he had Dean to help him. His fiancé would chuckle softly at the hopeless mess Cas made of the neckwear before taking pity on him and deftly manipulating the silken material into a picture perfect Windsor knot. Today, he was on his own. Well, not technically, Gabriel was with him, but his older brother was more clueless about these matters than the younger Novak.

“Why do you even need to wear the damn thing?” Gabriel griped, as he tried for the hundredth time to get the white tie to loop properly around his brother’s neck.

“I believe it is customary for the groom to wear a necktie at his wedding,” Castiel replied, oblivious to his brother’s sarcasm.

“If you’re the groom, does that make Dean-O the bride?” Gabriel chuckled gleefully. “Do we get to see him gliding down the aisle in a gown fit for a Disney princess?”

“Gabriel-,” Castiel began, but was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

“Now what?” Gabriel grumped. “This better not be a Winchester on the other side of the door. I already told you we aren’t interested.”

“Gabriel Richard Novak you open this door right now,” came the stern voice of Hael Novak.

Castiel had to laugh at how fast his brother fumbled with the handle to allow their mother entrance into the holding area. Even at twenty-six years old, Gabriel still was cowed by his mother.

“Sorry Mama,” the eldest Novak said, faint blush tinging his cheeks.

“Now, stop torturing your poor brother and go make yourself useful,” Hael ordered softly. “And, don’t go harassing Dean either, he needs to get ready, too.”

Beating a hasty retreat, Gabriel fled before he could get another lecture from his mother.

“Thanks, Mama,” Castiel said softly.

“Well someone needs to keep him in line,” his mother replied. “I already have made sure your cousins and the Singers are on standby to make sure he doesn’t attempt any practical jokes during the ceremony. I’m pretty sure you and Dean would want his head on a platter if he disrupted your day, but I think I should try to save him from Ellen’s wrath.”

Castiel shivered at the thought of an angry Ellen Harvelle-Singer. Gabriel had attempted a gag at the rehearsal the previous evening and Castiel feared for a few minutes he might have to find a new best man, as Ellen chased after him with her dinner knife. Thankfully Dean was able to intervene and save his future brother-in-law from certain doom.

Mother and son took in each other for a few moments. Hael looked beautiful in her navy blue dress, the cut flattering for her as mother to one of the grooms. The color accentuated her dark hair and sapphire blue eyes, so like those of her youngest son. Castiel felt himself choke up at the sight. He felt himself on the verge of tears several times so far this day. Everything felt like a dream, he couldn’t believe he was standing here on the precipice of making his dreams come true. Within the hour, he would be married to the love of his life.

In the end, it had taken him and Dean three years to get married. Their parents pushed them to wait until after they graduated college, but the young men didn’t want to wait.

“Why wait to make it legal?” Dean questioned the last time they had this discussion. “Don’t’cha want Cas to make an honest man outta me?”

Castiel’s argument had been more emotional, “We know we are going to spend the rest of our lives together, we just don’t want to waste time, in case something would happen. We’ve almost lost each other too many times, I don’t want to miss my chance and live the rest of my life with regret.”

Eventually the two sides came to a compromise, the boys would marry the summer before their senior year of college. That would give them a chance to apply for married housing for the final year of undergraduate study, and would set them up for wherever they would relocate when Dean went on to medical school.

The two young men didn’t think much really would change in their relationship after their marriage. From their point of view, they considered themselves married since the day Castiel proposed, this was just signing a piece of paper and having a party with their loved ones.

That’s not to say things had been easy for them in the intervening years since Dean’s cancer went into remission. They had their ups and downs. They had fights, nights where one or the other left their dorm room and slept with friends, or went home to stay with their parents. There was even that awful forty-eight hours when they broke up after Castiel accused Dean of cheating on him, when Dean was helping Gabriel plan a secret birthday party for Cas.

In the end, the good always outweighed the bad. They both knew there was no one else they were meant to spend the rest of their lives with; they always knew they would end up getting married. Both men were anxious to finalize their union and prepare for their future. Now, they just had to get through the actual ceremony, which had Castiel so nervous he thought he was going to pass out.

“Here, let me fix your tie,” Hael said with a fond smile. “I don’t want to have my grandchildren look at pictures of this day and wonder why I didn’t stop you from looking half dressed.”

Castiel approached his mother, and handed her the plain white silk tie. When discussing their attire for the wedding, Castiel and Dean had discussed several options. Castiel suggested he wear a blue tie and Dean wear a green tie, to mirror the colors on Dean’s engagement ring. Dean didn’t want to, he thought it seemed too clichéd. The green-eyed man suggested not wearing ties at all, which earned him a slap upside from both Ellen and Hael who said they didn’t want the boys looking like hoodlums on the most important day of their lives.

It was Bobby who actually came up with the solution. He was tired of hearing everyone bicker about what colors the boys should wear.

“Why don’t’cha idjits just wear white?” he said in exasperation. Everyone stopped to stare at him, considering he hadn’t voiced an opinion on the wedding at all to this point.

“What?” he countered, feeling somewhat self-conscious to have everyone staring at him. “Brides wear white on their wedding day, some grooms wear all white tuxes. If frick ‘n frack here wear white, they match and I don’t hafta hear any more about the color schemes.”

Ellen stood up and immediately gave her husband a loud, exaggerated kiss and declared him a genius, which had the older man blushing to the roots of his hair.

Once the wardrobe was decided, the other components fell into place easily. Castiel and Dean both agreed their brothers would be their only attendants. Gabriel actually shed a tear or two when he was asked to stand up for his brother, although he brushed off the uncharacteristic show of emotion by saying he swallowed wrong. Both men were going to walk down the aisle. Dean wanted to be escorted by Ellen; and, Castiel had no hesitation to ask Hael.

To have the entire family involved, Dean and Ellen convinced Bobby to take courses to be ordained as a minister so he could perform the ceremony – the usually gruff bear of a man had to make a hasty retreat so no one knew how much the request affected him. Once he composed himself, he agreed without reservation.

“You look very handsome, sweetheart,” Hael told her son, as she put the finishing touches on his tie.

“And you look beautiful, Mama,” he replied with a kiss to her forehead.

“There’s just one thing missing,” Hael said, eying her son with a critical gaze.

“What?!” Castiel said, panic starting to set in. What had he forgotten? He thought he grabbed everything. Gabriel had the ring. He and Dean agreed not to write their own vows, so there was nothing else he was supposed to bring, was there?

“This,” his mother said, removing a plastic container from her purse. “It’s from Dean.”

Castiel looked in wonder as his mother removed a beautiful boutonniere…it was a forget-me-not, the same flower Dean selected for him the first dance they ever attended, while Dean was still in chemo treatments. Tears flooded the young man’s blue eyes, making them shine like jewels.

“I can’t believe he remembered that,” Cas said, awe in his voice.

“He wanted to make this special for you, and you both agreed not to exchange gifts,” Hael reminded her son, affixing the delicate bloom to his lapel.

“I-I wish I would have thought about this,” Castiel said, embarrassed he had not thought of such a significant detail.

“Thankfully for you, your mother-in-law is sharp as a tack,” drawled a voice from the doorway. Castiel turned to see Ellen standing there, looking quite pleased. “When Dean told me what he was going to do, I remembered you gave him a white lily the same night. I took the liberty of purchasing his boutonniere.”

“Thank you so much, Ma,” Castiel replied, giving her a quick hug so as not to muss her dress.

“Since Sam seems to be hyperventilating over his role as best man and Dean is working to calm him down, I decided to come and let y’all know we are getting ready to start in five minutes,” Ellen said, she went to leave the room, but turned back and pulled Castiel into a sudden hug.

“I’m real proud of you boys. You love one another and look after each other. If ever I hear tell of either of you treating the other poorly, I’ll kick your asses from here to California, y’hear me?” Ellen asked, levelling the young man with her most intimidating glare.

“Yes ma’am,” he squeaked dutifully.

Pleased with the response, she turned on her cream pumps and strode out the door to strike the fear of God into the other participant.

Once Ellen left, mother and son were alone again, and for some reason Castiel felt his emotions rising to the surface again. This was the last time he would be with his mother as a single man, after this, things would change – maybe not significantly, but they would change. He was going to be an adult in every sense of the word after this, he wasn’t going to be her little boy any more. For all he wanted to say that he and Dean were married already, this would change everything. What if he messed this up? What if they weren’t ready? He was going to be a married man. This was the last time he would be his mother’s little boy, and that struck him as incredibly sad.

As though sensing the tumultuous emotions swirling inside her son, Hael pulled her youngest close and enveloped him in a warm, comforting hug.

“I am so proud of you, sweetheart,” she whispered in his ear. “You chose a wonderful man to spend the rest of your life with, and I think you will be very happy together. I love you both so much, and give you my blessing and wish you a happy life.”

The first tears started to fall from both mother and son as she continued, “You will always be my little boy, no matter how old you are, but I am grateful that you have someone who loves and respects you the way I always dreamed for you.

“When I see Dean look at you, I see the way your father used to look at me, and no mother could wish more for her son than for him to be loved and cherished so completely.”

“Thank you, Mama,” Castiel replied, trying to bring his emotions under control. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby,” she replied, wiping the tears from her own eyes and holding out her arm for Castiel to take. “Now, let’s get this show on the road.”

As they waited their turn at the back of the small chapel, Castiel felt his nerves calm. He could do this.

The doors opened and he focused on the alter. He saw Bobby standing there, looking uncharacteristic and uncomfortable in his suit and no grubby baseball cap on his head. He saw Gabriel waiting to the side, eyes suspiciously moist and a solemn expression on his face. He saw Ellen sitting in the front pew, dabbing the errant tears from her eyes. He saw Sam, standing as a proud sentinel next to his brother.

It was only then that he allowed himself to look at Dean, and everything else fell away, just like in the fairy stories. There was nothing else but the two of them.

His future husband looked devastatingly handsome in his formal wear. His crisp white shirt and tie the perfect contrast to his slightly tanned skin and honey brown hair. The absence of color made his freckles stand out even more, constellations dusting his skin, and his beautiful eyes looking even greener in the light.

Castiel knew at this moment that this was what he had waited for his whole life. If he had a thousand lifetimes, he would always find his way to Dean Winchester. They were meant to be. He hoped he had a lifetime to love and cherish his husband. He reached out and clasped hands with the other man, waiting for the ceremony to begin. In that moment he knew he would love this man for the rest of his life. He just wished he had a thousand years to be able to spend with him. But he would be happy with whatever they got, because they would be together.

 _“Friends and family,”_ Bobby began, _“we have come here today to join Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester in the bonds of matrimony.”_

Castiel and Dean squeezed hands a gentle reassurance to the other. This was the start of their greatest adventure, yet. They couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we have reached the end. I want to throw a party and I want to cry at the same time.
> 
> Thank you to everyone for your support during this process. I couldn't have done it without you. Please let me know what you think of the ending. I decided to do it from Cas' perspective because I didn't think we got to see enough of him and his mother during the story, so I thought it was different to stay with him.
> 
> If anyone is interested, I am thinking about possibly writing some timestamps with our Cas and Dean. There's a lot that I skipped over from our last chapter to the epilogue. There's a lot that could happen after the epilogue. So, let me know what you think.
> 
> There will be one more post tonight - it is not a real chapter. It is my author's note, and my Playslist that I used and listened to while writing.
> 
> Thank you all again for everything. Love to you all <3.


	31. Not An Actual Chapter: The Playlist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not an actual chapter, it is just my author's notes/general ramblings, and the playlist of songs I used for the titles of each chapter.

I got the inspiration for this story after watching the 200th episode. I am a theater kid and I loved Dean’s reference to _Rent_ with his “No Day But Today” speech. The title got stuck in my head and I wanted to write something around that idea. However, I didn’t think it would turn into the story you have just finished. This story was supposed to be a cohesive work based on some of the 30-day OTP writing challenges I have seen. I wanted to try my hand, but I didn’t think I wanted each story to be a separate vignette, I wanted it to be cohesive, so I started this story and threw a lot of my own personal favorite themes (e.g., hurt/sick Dean) into the mix. I think I hit a few of the cheesy tropes, but not all. Who knows, maybe I will do that challenge properly down the road.

For this story, since the title was derived from song lyrics, I thought it only fitting each chapter should be based on a song title. Some of the songs selected are my favorites and came easily to mind. Others were based off of Internet research. At the end of this Author’s Note I have listed all the songs and the artists, if you want to check them out (you can also search on Spotify for a playlist called No Day But Today, I used it when I wrote to help me stay in the mood).

I don’t want to babble too long, but I do want to say a couple quick things, if you still are reading. First and foremost, a HUGE thank you to each and every one of you who stuck with me this whole time. Thank you so much for reading, for commenting, for not hating me too terribly when I put poor Dean through hell. I am overwhelmed by the response my simple story got, and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart, it means the world to me, and I send my love to you all.

Also, this may not be the end. As our great Chuck has said, endings are hard, and I find myself ridiculously invested in these characters. I have some ideas that may spawn additional timestamps in the future. If you are interested, please let me know. If there is something in particular you are curious about or would like to read about, please let me know.

When I first started this, I had no clear picture of where exactly I was going. I thought we were headed for a happy ending. As the story progressed, I definitely changed things, some things I added or omitted based on your comments – so thank you. I admit to you, there was a time where I seriously contemplated letting Dean die. I considered letting Cas’ nightmare be real. I considered letting him “awakening” from the nightmare be a dream that we would find out at the end. I thought about letting the pneumonia kill Dean. In the end, I wanted them to have somewhat of a happy ending.

Lastly, even though he is not on AO3, I have to give a huge thanks to my hubby, Steve. He was my sounding board. He grinned and bore it whenever I would ask his opinion on something – even though he still is mad I didn’t let Dean dress up as a Brony for the Comic Con chapter. He stopped proofreading when the boys got together, but he still was invaluable in just listening to ideas, and reining me in. So, thank you, honey.

Again, thank you all for your support, I cherish it.

Here is my playlist:

1.)    Candle in the Wind – Elton John

2.)    I’m Not Okay, (I Promise) – My Chemical Romance

3.)    When the Levee Breaks – Led Zepplin

4.)    3 a.m. – Matchbox Twenty

5.)    Tell Me It’s Not True – Willy Russell (“Blood Brothers”)

6.)    Finally – Fergie

7.)    My Father’s Eyes – Eric Clapton

8.)    Reflection – Lea Salonga (“Mulan”)

9.)    Waiting – Green Day

10.)Hurt – Nine Inch Nails

11.)Creep – Radiohead

12.)Say Something – A Great Big Something

13.)All Nightmare Long – Metallica

14.)Come What May – Jenny & Mac

15.) Tattoos – Frank Turner

16.)Radioactive – Imagine Dragons

17.)Tears At The Birthday Party – Elvis Costello, Burt Bacharach

18.)Father to Son – Queen

19.)Broken – Seether ft. Amy Lee

20.)If Tomorrow Never Comes – Garth Brooks

21.)In My Time of Dying – Led Zepplin

22.)All Apologies – Nirvana

23.)Maybe (Next to Normal) – Alice Ripley (“Next to Normal”)

24.)(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes – Elvis Costello

25.)Home – Michael Buble

26.)Something About the Way You Look Tonight – Elton John

27.)Imagine – John Lennon

28.)I Knew I Loved You – Savage Garden

29.)Hallelujah – Rufus Wainright

30.)A Thousand Years – Christina Perri

All my best,

Elisha <3


	32. Baby Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Ellen have a moment before he marries Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little time stamp to show what was happening between Dean and Ellen at the same time Castiel and Hael were having their moment.
> 
> Please enjoy.

Humming Metallica always calmed Dean. That’s why it was no surprise that he found himself humming _Nothing Else Matters_ as he deftly twisted the white material into a perfect Eldridge knot. The familiar melody began to do its trick, nerves still thrumming below the surface but not as evident as before. Dean stepped back and took a look at himself…not too shabby.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He was getting married! This wasn’t a dream (believe him, he’d already tried pinching himself several times already just to make sure) and it wasn’t a joke. Dean Winchester was finally getting hitched to Castiel Novak, he was ecstatic. He was terrified. But mostly he was ecstatic. Although he let Cas plan the shindig for the most part, he still wanted to make sure he didn’t mess anything up.

As he started going through his mental checklist of what he was supposed to do, he heard a soft rapping at the door.

“C’mon in,” Dean called out. “Unless it’s you, Cas, you know they say you shouldn’t see the groom before the wedding day.”

“It ain’t Cas,” a feminine voice replied, and Dean turned around to see Ellen entering the room, dressed to the nines for the special occasion. “And I don’t think that boy would much appreciate you insinuating he’s the bride.”

Dean chuckled at the image of his fiancé dressed in a white wedding dress with a veil, and then took a moment to truly look at his adopted mother. He had never seen her so dressed up. Usually Ellen Harvelle-Singer dressed in frayed jeans and soft flannel shirts – comfort over couture. Today she was dressed as the mother of the groom. Dean let out an exaggerated whistle in appreciation of her appearance.

“Did you even wear a dress when you married Dad?” Dean asked, smirk plastered on his face, although he was pleased to see her taking such an interest in the celebration.

“Hell no, boy,” Ellen snorted, approaching her son and smoothing the dark material of his tuxedo. “We strolled up to the JP, half drunk, wearing jeans an’ t-shirts. Think the judge was close to turning us away fearing we weren’t in our right minds to take the commitment seriously.”

“I’m sure he’d be surprised to see y’all still are together,” Dean concurred fondly.

“Naw,” Ellen said, stepping back to look for last minute touch ups to Dean’s wardrobe. “We sent him a fruit basket on our first wedding anniversary. He know we done good.”

The conversation lulled for a moment after that, and Ellen regarded the younger man with such a serious expression that Dean felt his nerves begin to take over again.

“You’re okay with this, aren’t you Ma?” Dean asked, wondering if Ellen still thought the boys were too young to jump into marriage. She had been the most vocal about them waiting until they at least graduated college before taking such a huge step. When the two men argued they wanted to be married in case Dean would relapse, marriage would at least give Castiel some rights if Dean became incapacitated, she eventually relented.

“I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t have some concerns,” she said, blunt and honest as always. “But, I know you two have your minds made up and I won’t stand in the way of that.”

“I love him, Ma,” Dean said, shuffling his feet somewhat uncomfortably. He always thought that after having a life and death experience he would be more at ease expressing his emotions, but that really wasn’t the case. He still kept his feelings close to the chest – mainly because he felt everything too deeply and was terrified of being hurt.

“I know, baby,” she replied, tone softer than Dean was used to hearing from his usually brash mother. “You two are good for each other.”

“Then why do you look like you are walking toward your execution?” Dean asked, half-joking to try to break up the tension.

Ellen barked out a short laugh, but it came out more watery than she probably intended.

“You know, for years I never thought that I would get to experience a moment like this,” she started, almost a complete non-sequiter.

“What? Participating in a gay wedding?” Dean quipped, her serious expression throwing him off-kilter, so he fell back to his usual defense of making fun of tense situations.

“Don’t you sass me, Dean Winchester,” she warned, glaring at him with her full might. “I might still be able to find a wooden spoon to tan yer hide.”

“Sorry Ma,” he said, duly chastened, and waited to see where this was going. He tried to steel himself because he had a feeling there was a chick-flick moment coming. He and Ellen didn’t have these moments often, but he figured if there ever was a time for one, this probably was it.

“Let’s try this again,” Ellen said. “For years I never thought I would get to experience a moment like this. When Joanna Beth died and then my marriage to Bill fell apart, I never thought of having another child; I didn’t want one because I couldn’t deal with having my heart broken again.

“When Bobby an’ I got together, it wasn’t really something we talked about. We were both older and past our child bearin’ prime. So having a kid was nothing I ever thought I’d get a chance to have again.”

Ellen paused briefly at this point like she was trying to compose herself. Dean thought about interjecting, he hated to see her upset; but, he also was fascinated. He knew a lot of this story, had heard bits and pieces of it, but he never heard her speak so candidly about it, and she initiated the conversation, so there must be something important she wanted to tell him. For once, Dean bit his tongue and waited for her to continue.

“When you and Sam showed up in our lives, I think that Bobby and I both took a shine to you boys. There is just something about you Winchesters that got to us. For years, your Dad and I had to watch you struggle. We had to watch John heap too much on your shoulders, watch you have to raise Sam when you were no more than a baby yourself, and there wasn’t much we could do. You weren’t really ours, even if we secretly might have thought of you as such.

“Then came your diagnosis, I had never wanted to kill another person as much as I wanted to kill John Winchester the day he showed up to the hospital and said he couldn’t be around you when you were going through the treatments. I just couldn’t imagine a parent who could do that. I was in a position to empathize with his feelings more than anyone. I had watched an illness take my baby away from me. I watched her wither and watched her spark fade and extinguish completely. That pain is something that no parent ever should experience. But, I would never have wanted to abandon her.

“Kids break your heart, but they also are the single most important reason for a parent to keep fighting. There was nothing I could do for Joanna Beth. But, young as she was I know she took some comfort from my presence, and I thought John should be there, too.

“Turns out, him leaving that day was the beginning of a new chapter for me and yer Dad, and for that I have to thank John Winchester. Without his supreme idiocy, yer Dad and I wouldn’t have been able to claim you and Sam as our own, and we never would have been able to experience the blessing of seeing our oldest boy get married to a good man.”

Ellen’s eyes were sparkling with tears, and Dean already had shed a few himself – no longer caring if he looked like a blotched tomato on wedding photos.

“Ma, I-,” Dean began, but was stopped by Ellen raising her hand as a signal that she wasn’t done, yet.

“So,” she continued, voice growing thick with the weight of her unshed tears. “on this most wonderful of occasions, I wanted to adhere to a tradition.

“You and Cas might not be a traditional wedding couple, but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be able to carry on traditions.”

She reached into her purse and pulled out a boutonniere, a white lily just like Cas had given him on prom. The flower was wrapped with a delicate piece of blue ribbon. Ellen worked quickly to secure the flower onto her son’s lapel.

“So, with the ribbon you have something blue,” she said with a soft smile, and reached back into her purse to pull out something that was shiny.

“The something old, something new, something borrowed are all wrapped into this,” she explained, opening her hand to reveal a small gold circlet, the ring so tiny it would barely fit on the tip of Dean’s pinky finger, it was secured by an equally beautiful and delicate golden chain. “The ring is a baby’s baptismal ring, it was my great-great grandmother’s. The last time I saw this was on Joanna Beth’s baptism. She was so hyper on that day her arms wouldn’t quit flapping. At some point, she flapped so hard the ring fell off her finger. I remember when I noticed it was missing, my heart dropped because I felt I lost a piece of my family with that, and that my baby wouldn’t be able to pass it on to her first born.

“Later that day, a janitor cleaning up the hall where we were celebrating came up to me and asked if this ring belonged to anyone in my party. He found it in a corner by where my little girl had been playing that day. I was so relieved. When my daughter died, I put the ring in a safety deposit box and tried to forget about it, as though its very existence mocked me and my pain.

“However, today, I feel blessed because I am able to share this with my eldest boy. Yer Dad always says that ‘family don’t end in blood,’ and he has never been more right. I could never love a child of my own blood any more than I love you, Dean. I want you to wear this today, and if you and Cas ever decide to have kids, I would be honored if you would let them wear it when they are baptized.”

Dean almost couldn’t speak for the tears that were now streaming down his face; but, they were happy tears.

“I love you, too, Ma,” he said, voice watery and cracked. “I will always love my birth mom and love the man that John was before she died; but, you and Dad are my true parents. I love you both so much, and I am so glad that you adopted Sam and me and stuck with us through everything. I know I don’t say it often, but I mean it every day.”

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his mother’s slender frame, stooping down slightly to accommodate her smaller stature. They clung to each other for several moments, relishing the comfort and the love that was exchanged – each happy the other was a part of this special day.

“Alright,” Ellen snuffled, placing a quick kiss on Dean’s cheek before stepping back, “that’s enough of what you call chick-flick moments. Let me get this necklace on you and let’s get out there. I don’t want yer future husband hyperventilatin’ thinkin’ you ditched him at the altar or anything.”

Dean chuckled and hurried swiped his still leaking eyes, appreciating his mother bringing some levity to the moment.

“Let’s do this,” he agreed.

Ellen spun her boy around by the shoulders and nimbly affixed the necklace around his neck, then turned him back around to see the end result.

“Not too bad,” she said, tears still shining in her eyes.

“Thanks, Ma,” Dean said with a last quick hug. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby mine,” she said with a genuine smile. “Love you always.”

They walked out of the room, arm in arm and went to take their places to walk down the aisle. It was time for the wedding to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! I told you I had some ideas for time stamps, so this is the most obvious. I love the relationship between Dean and Ellen and thought these two needed their moment to shine.
> 
> Also, this version of Dean and Cas just won't leave my head. I have other WIP and other story ideas that I want to write, but I love these two so much that I can't seem to forget about them. So, instead of time stamps, I think I am going to do something different, I am going to create another story to focus on the first year of Cas and Dean's marriage. Hopefully, I can figure out how to make this as the first part of the series, so please stay tuned.
> 
> If you have any suggestions or things you would really like to see from a sequel, please let me know.
> 
> Thank you all, as always, for sharing this journey with me, and for all your kudos and lovely comments, it means the world to me.


End file.
